The Shadow's Child
by Emerald Sage
Summary: Harrison Black-Riddle was the outcast of his family.  His father vanished when he was young and his family hated him.  All he had left was the life of his alter-ego, and the adventures that came with it...at least until his father reappeared.
1. Alyssa's Diary, Entry 1

Disclaimer: **I DON'T OWN HARRY POTTER.**

CHAPTER STARTS HERE!

Alyssa's Diary:

Hello everyone. If you're reading this, then you've stumbled across my personal diary. What you are about to read describes the life and trials of one Harrison Black-Riddle. At the age of fourteen, Harrison lives a tough life. He was born on July 31st, with almost all of his father's features, including his jade eyes. He was one of the triplets born that night, the youngest at 11:59pm. His brothers, Damien and Gabriel, were declared powerful children, worth heirs to the Dark Lord. Oh, if you haven't figured it out by now, his parents are Bellatrix Black, and Tom Marvolo Riddle.

The perfect parents…_not._

Proclaimed by the healer, a shameful squib, Harrison was made the outscast of the family. His father had vanished not only a year before the healer's proclamation. Had they paid closer attention to Harrison over the years, they would've seen his magic grow, his power increase, and talents shine.

But no one did.

So now, our story starts on that warm June night that Lord Voldemort had been revived.

But that's for later, not now.

For now, you can sit back, and enjoy the story.

_**Alyssa Riddle**_


	2. Setting the Stage

**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN HARRY POTTER**

**On with the story!**

Chapter 2: Setting the Stage

He ran into the shack, ducking through the door just as his mother looked outside. He grinned as he panted, his mother hadn't seen him. If she had, the whole manor would know by now.

With an easy grace, he walked towards the bathroom, and stripped. Stepping into the shower stall, he turned the hot water on high, letting the water droplets cascade down his bare skin. He stayed in the shower for almost an hour, just soothing himself in the heat and comfort of the steam building around him. Almost too soon, he thought, he stepped out of the shower, and covered himself with a towel. He turned and caught a fleeting flash of something. He fully turned to face the mirror. He saw the steam clear to reveal his reflection.

He had jet black hair, cut at chin length, with bangs falling in his face. His face was pale, but not in an unhealthy way. His features were aristocratic, sharp, but handsome. His fourteen-year old body was lithe, slim, but malnourished. His mother gave him less food than his triplets, he thought disgustedly, if only she knew…. He was toned from the work his alter-ego had to do, and his reflexes were faster than lightning. His senses were better than most, and his hearing was better than a werewolf, as was his sense of smell. He was completely silent and graceful as he moved, and he could easily melt into the shadows. But it was his eyes that attracted everyone. They were an icy jade that simply oozed power. And unknown to him, they were the same shade as his father's before he turned them crimson.

He stepped away from the mirror, and moved towards the wardrobe. Stepping inside, he quickly dressed into his worn, patched and frayed old black cloak, as well as a pair of muggle black jeans and black t-shirt underneath. He chuckled as he moved towards the door of his shack, thinking.

When he arrived at the dinning hall, his brothers, Damien and Gabriel, were already there and sitting with their mother. His face became unreadable, his aura cold, and deceptive, his eyes became blank as they came closer to his family. He was completely emotionless, and it was an incredible thing to watch if one had seen him only seconds before.

When he took his seat at the end of the table, his brothers sneered at him. He ignored them, and focused on eating. His mother seemed to be happy about something, and when they were all done eating, the three brothers turned to face her.

"Boys, I have great news." she said, her eyes shinning in glee. The two boys, Damien and Gabriel, one of which she thought would be Slytherin's heir, were excited. He simply looked bored. "Your father is returning. He should be reborn tonight, and will be home tomorrow morning to see you. _All_ of you." she added with a sneer, looking in his direction.

On the outside, he congratulated himself on looking completely emotionless. On the inside, he had frozen stock still. He cursed inwardly, his father was coming back.

Once he was within the safety wards of his shack, he let his mask completely drop. He hit the floor on his knees, sliding down the wall, disbelief prominent in his viridian eyes.

Merlin, his _father_ was returning. His father was finally coming back…and it couldn't possibly be at a worse time.

_This is bad, bad bad, this is really, really bad, _he thought.

And bad it was. He worked for people his father would do anything to get his hands on. Oh no, don't get him wrong, he wasn't working for the Light, he wanted to live, mind you.

What would happen if his father figured out who he was?

What would happen if his father caught him sneaking out?

He was on a job for his…_employers_. Well, they were more mutual friends than anything. His father would do anything to get his hands on some of his friends. Friends he has known since he was a child struggling to gain his mother's affections. Friends who took care of him as if they were family.

They _were_ family, if you thought about it. They did favors for each other, they knew each other well, but respected each other's privacy. They were part of the different war factions, or they were bystanders, and would warn each other not to be somewhere, when an attack was taking place, so they would be safe.

They were the first ones to make him feel safe, they were the first to care about him. And he'd be damned if he let his father use them like tools. For his friends, no, for his _family, _he would go against his triplets and his mother. The two spoiled brats and their caretaker. But his father…he wasn't sure yet. He wanted to live, and going against his father, well that was a sure fire way to get himself killed.

He opened his forest green eyes, unaware he had closed them, with a spark of determination now noticeable in them.

It was time to pay an old friend a visit.

He was walking down Downing Street. His friend lived in the lap of luxury, right, as they said, '_in the Prime Minister's backyard'_. He was dressed as he usually was when walking in Muggle London. He had a black t-shirt on that said _Bite me_ in blood red, covered by a black zip-up aeropostale hoodie. He was also wearing his hair in spikes, with blood red tips, with black converse, and tight black Levi's jeans. It was also raining.

Once he reached his friend's house, he knocked thrice, and waited patiently in the pouring rain. The door opened up a crack, and familiar ice blue eyes widened. The door snapped open to reveal the familiar site of Declan McKnight, his 21 year-old, self-proclaimed big brother.

Declan stood at about 6ft 2in, towering over his 5ft 4in. He was broad, muscled, and tanned. He had light brown hair and ice blue eyes that could become glacial when angered. Declan was also an infamous playboy, known as Striker to most because of that as well as his incredible accuracy with weapons.

"What the bloody hell are you doing standing in this downpour! You're going to be sick!" he all but shouted in his face. Then next thing he knew, was he was being dragged inside Declan's house, and was standing sopping wet next to the door as it slammed shut.

"Nice to see you to Declan." he muttered sarcastically, before casting a drying charm on himself.

Declan nodded in approval, before asking, "So little bro, what are you doing here? You just left two days ago?" Declan was curious of course, who wouldn't be?

He sighed before looking Declan directly in the eye and saying, "My father's coming back tonight."

It was funny how much trouble that simple statement could cause.

Declan's eyes widened comically, before he passed out. He sighed again, before reviving his friend. Declan's eyes fluttered, before snapping open when he remembered the previous statement.

"He's possessive, damn it! He won't let you out of his sight. You'll not be able to report back every week, nor leave as often as you need to if he gets back. And he wants most of our people as tools for his side, we can't let him discover you, you'll be in so much danger, even as his son! Damn it! Why now, why when we are just getting in a better standing! Does fate hate us?" Declan ranted.

"Striker!" he shouted, earning himself a surprised look, he rarely shouted, there was hardly need for him to. "Calm down. Do you think I don't know this? The only thing worse, is that one of us will be chosen as his second. His heir, and Slytherin's heir. And hell, he knows it's me!" he exclaimed, shocking Striker even more with the declaration. They had all suspected he had been born Slytherin heir, but to have it confirmed, they didn't think he would do it, "I can remember him when I was little, before he vanished. He held each of us, for ten seconds each. He could feel my power Declan, he _knew_ magic had chosen me to be the heir. The only reason the healer proclaimed me a squib, was because he wanted me to be protected. It was the only way I would've found my way to this side, and the healer will be killed once father returns." he explained frantically.

Declan stared at him for a long time. They stood in an uncomfortable silence.

"He's going to find out eventually, you know." Declan began quietly, "He knows you're the heir, he'll be watching you more. He's possessive, he won't want to let you out of his sight. But he's also secretive. He won't tell anyone you're the heir until absolutely necessary. In fact, he'd probably pretend one of those pigs you have as brothers would be the heir. But he'll still watch you. And once he finds out, because he will, and you know this, he'll use you to get to us. Be careful, Shadow, this is dangerous."

He nodded back to Striker, "I will brother, I'll keep it a secret as long as I can. I didn't earn the nickname, Shadow, for nothing." and with a smirk, and worried eyes, he opened the door and walked down into the pouring rain.

Crimson eyes following.

Okay! That's the first actual chapter!

The story is called _The Shadow's Child_, because Harrison appears to be most comfortable in the shadows. In later chapters, his comfort in them will be explained in more detail. I hope you enjoyed it!

Emeralds

Oh, and please review!


	3. Meeting Him

**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN HARRY POTTER**

**Now on with the story!**

Chapter 3: Seeing Him

(**AN: This chapter will be in Voldemort's P.O.V.**)

He had been reborn the night before, and he was feeling better than he ever had. He was in his manor, silently keeping an eye on everything from the shadows, not letting anyone know he was there. He sighed when he heard a rooster crow in the distance, and crossed the room to the window overlooking the estate.

It was a gorgeous place, once one got past the glamour cast on it to prevent wandering muggles from getting too curious. The lawns were luscious, each blade of grass shinning with diamond like crystals. On the far side of the estate, though not too far, there was a small shack. It was a decent space, but small and peasant like for him. It used to house the caretaker of the property, back when his father still was alive. There had been a small light on all night in the room, and yet now, still three hours before dawn, the light had vanished, and the shack suddenly looked lifeless. Something was not right. He turned to cross the room so he could shower. He turned so fast that he almost missed the figure leaving the shack at a rushed, but graceful pace.

_Almost._

His eyes narrowed on the figure crossing the lush estate, fastened on the muggle clothes he saw. It was simple attire: blue jeans, black t-shirt, a light-brown hoodie sweatshirt, and olive converse. What attracted his attention was the figure's gait. It was confident, but cautious, wary, sneaky, and rushed. The figure was graceful, keeping mostly to the shadows where he wasn't seen as well. The figure's hood was up, and there was no chance of seeing the face of this interesting character unless said character turned. Halfway across the grounds, the figure became aware of his gaze, and turned to look in his direction. He quickly disillusioned himself, so if the figure's gaze landed on him, it would pass off as nothing. Then his eyes locked with emotionless jaded jade eyes.

His breath caught.

He knew who was leaving the grounds now, for only one person had those eyes. The eyes that used to be his when he was younger. The eyes that held years of misery and wariness, sadness and pain. The eyes he'd seen on one person on August 1st, 1980. The eyes that now belonged to his fourteen year old son. The eyes that now belonged to his heir.

He stared at the boy as he turned away from his intense gaze. The hood fell as he neared the apparation ward, revealing his features briefly, before the teen covered them up again. The boy looked like him. A carbon copy of his younger self. As the boy pulled up his hood, he crossed the ward, and drew his wand. The boy drew his magic and apparated away to Morgana-knows-where.

He leaned against the window frame, and inhaled sharply. He remembered that night, only hours after his youngest son's birth, when he had first felt the magic of his heir. He could still remember it now, ever so vividly.

_Flashback_

_ He entered the hospital room, and immediately saw Bellatrix._

_ She was sleeping peacefully, for the first time in months. Peaceful, undisturbed by the triplets pressing against her bladder, or in an uncomfortable position. He saw the three cribs, along with a healer, and the names he would choose for them would be written on each crib, along with the time they were born. He walked closer to the cribs, closer to his sons._

_ The first was the oldest. Damien Cygnus Black, born at 11: 40pm on July 31__st__, 1980. He was chubby, and looked like most Blacks would. Those small eyes opened to reveal onyx black orbs, and the babe started wailing. He picked up the child, the eldest of the three, and held him. After a while, when he could feel nothing special, he put his son down, letting the healers take care of the boy. He was not the Slytherin heir, in fact, he barely had enough power to get accepted into Hogwarts. He moved on to the second._

_ The second, the middle child. Gabriel Orion Black, born at 11: 45pm on July 31__st__, 1980. He looked stunningly like his elder brother, surprisingly like the Blacks. The only difference, was when the small eyes opened, and the babe started bawling, was his eyes were grey. He picked up his second son, and held him. After a while, he put the boy down, knowing that the second child, while slightly more powerful than the eldest, was not the Slytherin heir. He would only ever be as powerful as the average Hogwarts' student. That left the last one…._

_ The last child, the youngest. He felt drawn to the child more than anyone else. He looked at the card and stared at the time the boy was born. 11:59pm, on July 31__st__, 1980, only seconds from midnight. The boy had been born fourteen minutes after his brothers, while the first two had been born only five minutes apart. Then he looked at the child, and had to refrain from gasping. The babe's eyes were open, and they were a shocking shade of jade. _His_ jade. Those were his eyes, his features, his looks, his build,…his heir. He knew it the moment he picked up the babe. He felt the boy's aura wash over his own, happiness running through the small child. The small child looked up into his eyes. Crimson met jade, and then the little baby gurgled happily, closing a fist around one of his fingers with a grip that would surprise many. He didn't know how long he had stood there holding his son, his heir, his future, before he saw those jade eyes flutter in sleepiness, shocking him out of the haze he had been in. He realized that he hadn't even given the child a name._

_ "Harrison." he muttered to the child, who cocked his head adorably, almost curiously, "Harrison Thomas Black-Riddle. My baby boy." he whispered the last part in parse tongue, and his son giggled when he heard the language of the snakes. Well, he thought, that settles it. Standing there in St. Mungo's, holding his youngest son, he did something he hadn't done in decades._

_ He smiled a true smile._

_End Flashback_

He pulled out of the flashback, still smiling as he had done that day when he had first held his son. He continued to cross the room and entered the lavish bathroom and stripped in front of the shower. He turned the water on hot and let the heated perspiration pour down his body in flowing rivers. When he had finished, and wrapped a towel around his waist, he paused in front of the mirror.

He looked around thirty, while in reality he was in his late seventies. He had raven hair, like his son's, that ended at his shoulders. His body was lithe, and broad at the same time. He was toned from the dodging and spell work he did before he had been defeated. His features matched his son's, and the only few differences between the two were age, height, and eye color. He was 6ft 4in, a whole foot taller than his son, and decades older. His eyes used to be the same jade color, but after Hogwarts, he had decided to turn the crimson, the color of blood. His eyes scared people away, even his elder sons were frightened of his eyes, they had been so at birth. They had cried upon seeing him. But what warmed his heart, the one that his followers would swear he didn't have, was that his heir, his little Harry(he nicknamed him, so he could call him something childish when Bellatrix wasn't around), had gurgled happily upon seeing him, and had demanded to be picked up, childishly raising his arms, never looking away from his face, unless he was tired.

But no one knew this. No one remembered or even saw, the Dark Lord acting like a proud father around his youngest son. No one saw the smiles, the laughs, the hugs, the lullabies, the napping, and all the other things that he had done with his son when the boy was a baby. He knew his son did remember some things. His son was intelligent that way, intelligent and gifted. He had originally thought he was being biased towards Harrison because he was his heir, but after trying to spend time with his other two sons, he became well aware of why he loved Harrison more. Harrison reminded him of himself. He was quiet when his father was brooding, and playful when his father was in need of cheering up. It always brightened his day when he saw the baby. His son would always love him, and no matter what his son did, he knew he would always love the boy too. His son was just that, his son. Not a follower, not a servant, not just an heir, a son.

He dressed quickly and moved back to the window, he had a feeling he would be seeing his son soon.

And no sooner had he thought that, his son had appeared just beyond the wards. The boy looked over the manor, stopping short just a bit below the floor he was on. What would make the boy look like that, in such panic…oh. Bellatrix resided with _her_ sons on the floor below. He must've been sneaking out, and if Bellatrix caught him… well, suffice to say he wouldn't be alright. The boy ran through the shadows, and straight into the caretaker's shack. The shack was surrounded by safety wards, put up by his son, and hard to notice without a significant amount of power. He knew Bellatrix hadn't sensed them, hell even he hadn't been able to sense them until his son crossed the wards.

A few hours later he was dressed and disillusioned, standing in the dinning hall. He saw his son's contemplating face before coming into the hall, and the emotionless mask he was wearing seconds later upon entering it. It never ceased to amaze him how a child could switch personalities like that so fast. It amazed him even when he did it, how it worked so flawlessly(well, not so much around Dumbledore). He watched the boy carefully through Bellatrix's announcement. He was sure no one, not even the boy himself, noticed the panic that had flashed across his son's countenance when she had mentioned him returning to the manor.

He watched as the boy practically fled the manor as soon as he was outside. He entered the safety wards as soon as his son did to prevent detection. He saw the teen's mask crumble, disbelief, shock, and fear showing in them, disbelief prominent. The teen had fallen to his knees, and slid down the wall, unknowingly closing his eyes. For ten minutes, the teen sat deep in thought, one might've thought he was asleep. But when he opened his eyes again, there was a spark of determination in them. As the boy rose, he cast a tracking charm on him. Once the boy apparated away, he followed.

He watched as they both silently arrived in an alleyway in Muggle London. He saw his son transfigure his robes into muggle clothing, and noted with some amusement, that the teen looked like someone mothers would tell their kids to stay away from. And it looked like the teen knew that.

He followed the boy through Downing Street, and through the pouring rain that seemed to annoy neither father nor son. He saw the boy knock on the door of one of the houses on the street, and blinked twice when the teen was pulled in by its' occupant. He couldn't hear what was going on, but he had a pretty good idea. The man who had opened the door had been Declan McKnight, or Striker. He was a man famous for him accuracy with weapons of any kind, and infamous for his playboy personality. Finally, after three-quarters of an hour, his son exited the house and walked down the street.

His own crimson eyes never leaving the teen's silhouette.

There you go! Three chapters done in one day! A new record!

Please review, those are what keep me going!

I was startled, but pleased when I started receiving e-mails about my story only ten minutes after I posted it. It gave me hope that I might be able to finish this story.

Now, for those fans of my other stories:

I AM NOT ABANDONING THEM!

Too many people want to see updates, and I wouldn't be so cruel as to deny that. I merely am having problems with my train of thought for those particular stories.

Please do review!

Emeralds


	4. Avoiding Him

Hi everyone! Thanks for all the reviews! Now, to answer a few questions: 1. I normally don't update as fast as I have been doing, but you, my awesome reviewers, have permission to nag me without restraint to update if I don't update within two weeks! 2. Alyssa Riddle is a character that will become more involved as the story goes on, the only thing is, she wasn't born a Riddle . 3. Yes there will be father/son interaction, but not much during this chapter. I haven't decided whether to do a chapter in Harrison's point of view, and re-write the same chapter in Voldemort's, but that I can figure out later. Thank you for the reviews!

Emeralds

**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN HARRY POTTER!**

Chapter 4: At First Sight

(**AN: This chapter will be in Harrison's P.O.V.)**

He woke up near dawn, with no idea what woke him up. He stretched out his magic to try and find the disturbance, closing his eyes to concentrated. His eyes flew open when he discovered what woke him up this early. _Oh shit, _he thought, _he's here!_

And so he was.

He ran to the window that overlooked the grounds, and looked up to the manor, and swore his heart stopped beating.

His father was standing there, just on top of the hill. And what really took the cake, was he was looking directly at him. His jade green eyes widened as crimson ones bored straight into him. _Shit, shit, shit! He's looking right at me! Oh shit, is he smirking?_ Yes, his father was smirking, almost like he heard everything he thought. Which, he wouldn't put it past the man to look into his mind. He was pretty sure his father had felt the magic he'd used to find what woke him up, that could be, should be, the only reason he knew he was here, in the caretaker's shack, instead of in the manor with his mother and brothers. As he saw the smirk grow, he ducked out of the window, sliding down beside it.

_Breathe, _he told himself, _In and out, in and out, come on you can do this._

Yeah right.

He stiffened as he heard a chuckle near the window, and then footsteps as the chuckle faded away. His father was walking away. He didn't relax until the wards around his shack alerted him that his father had left the area, and even then, he was alert. His father had caught him off guard, and it had shaken him tremendously. It couldn't happen again.

Who knows what would happen then.

He sighed as he exited the bathroom. After the incident in the morning, he had fled to the bathroom to seek comfort in his bath tub, one he only used in stressful situations. The water had been scalding hot, but he loved soaking in it. He had merely sat there, soaking, for hours before forcing himself out to get dressed. During those hours he had thought about many things, his father for one.

The man confused him. According to his mother, the man was a cruel, heartless bastard. Then why did he have memories of his father from his first year of age, memories that showed a soft, parental side of his father that he was sure no one but him had ever seen. Of course, it wouldn't have been the first time Bellatrix had lied to him, but then, why lie to the other two? And if his father had heard about her comment, he could kill her (not that he'd miss her, in fact he would rejoice, he hated her) for her insolence, or at the very least, toruture her. Why would she say it if it were not ture?

But then, there were his own memories. His own mind was trying to tell him about his father the way he remembered him, not the way Bellatrix had described him. Did his father truly know he was the heir? Was that why his father spent all his time witih him as a child, and not his brothers? Or was it for an entirely different reason?

Just thinking about it made his head hurt.

The old grandfather clock chimed, signaling that it was around nine o'clock in the morning. Too early for his mother and brothers to be up, thank the Maker. He slipped out of the shack, dressed in a regular black tee and jeans with black converse. He was in a 'black' mood today. He slipped into the dinning hall with ease, but was alert the whole time. He knew his father was in the manor, but he didn't know where. He didn't want to chance meeting his father before he was ready to. His father could read right through his mask, as was the gift of being Lord of House Slytherin, and him being the Heir.

Sometimes he hated pure-blood traditions.

He looked around the empty dinning hall, directing his thoughts away from those particular areas. He noticed how eerie it looked and felt, even when the molten sun was on the climb in the swirling cerulean sky. He decided to head down to the kitchens, knowing it would be a little more comforting. He may not be used to the comfort, but it didn't mean he didn't welcome it.

He never noticed the eyes following him in amusement.

He opened the door to the kitchens, immediately being greeted by his favorite house-elf, Sky. Sky had cared for him as a child. When Bellatrix failed to give him food, Sky always brought him his share. When he was bruised and hurt from his brohter's roughhousing, Sky healed him. Even though Bellatrix tried everything from ordering her to giving her clothes, to prevent her from helping him, Sky wouldn't listen to her. She had been his father's personal house-elf, and his father had assigned her to him. Therefore, only he and his father had any control over Sky, whatsoever.

He was fine with that.

He had little warning when he felt her attack him, hugging him.

"Master Harrison!" she said excitedly, her Caribbean blue eyes shinning. If any house-elf was beautiful, it was Sky. She had lovely eyes that shinned, her ears were more like cat ears, and her skin was a tan color and not wrinkly. She was extremely young in house-elf years, but she was half of his hight. He smiled at her excitement.

"Hello Sky." he said softly. Her eyes brightened at the greeting.

"Would you like the usual Master?" she asked politely. While he was learning grammar and English, he taught it to Sky as well. He thought she would make nice conversation when she could speak properly. He was not wrong. He quickly nodded, and smiled when she immediately got to work. Sky loved working. Soon, the delicious smell of his breakfast wafted over to him, and his stomach gave a rather loud grumble.

He flushed in embarassment when he heard Sky's laughter a few workspaces over, but he froze when he heard another laugh join in. This laugh was warm, loving, kind, but powerful, and firm. He knew this laugh.

And as he turned around, he had to force himself to breathe at regular intervals. This is what he had been dreading, he thought as he stared at the form leaning against the sealed doors; the only exit from the kitchen.

His father was standing directly in front of him, and he had nowhere to go, and not a single idea what to do. As he looked into smirking red eyes, he knew exactly what was happening.

A confrontation.

_Shit._

END OF CHAPTER!

Hi everyone! Sorry for the delay, but it was end of quarter this week, and I had boat loads of project due because I had been out sick for a week. Anyways, I'm sorry about the short chapter. The next one will be longer, promise! But I'm not making any promises about when I'm goint to post it, because I myself have no idea.

Please review!

Thanks guys!

Emeralds


	5. A Learning Experience

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter will contain that confrontation you're all waiting for. Please blame my sleep-addled brain if the confrontation is not as wonderful as you are all hoping for. Oh, and check out my profile page for two new things:**

**1. A picture of the elusive Alyssa Riddle **

**2. A poll on how I should update.**

**Thanks guys,**

**Your lovely author, Em **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, now stop making me feel bad!**

**SHADOW**

Chapter 5: A Learning Experience

He was hiding.

He was hidden in a crevice near the front doors, scared witless. Of course, none of those emotions had shown on his face, he was a master of the Slytherin mask. His mind was coming up with multiple different locations to hide, all better than this one. He could easily be found out if someone chose to look close enough. But his instinct overruled his intelligence at the moment. One look outside the crevice told him it wasn't safe enough yet, and he popped by into the small little nook. He heard footsteps down the hall, coming closer to him. Quickly, he added notice-me-not charms, dissillusionment charms, and silencing charms all around him and the crevice, mentally berating himself for not adding them earlier. He heard a chuckle, and a shiver went down his spine.

_It was him._

His father, the whole reason he was hiding in this small little crack in the wall, was because of the confrontation that had occurred earlier. His mind immediately brought back the scene in the kitchen. Oh, how scared he had been when he had seen his father lounging by the sealed kitchen doors.

_**Flashback**_

_His father was standing directly in front of him, and he had nowhere to go, and not a single idea what to do. As he looked into smirking red eyes, he knew exactly what was happening._

_ A confrontation._

_**Shit.**_

_ The man in front of him chuckled, and he immediately sealed his shock behind his mask although he knew it was useless. The man in front of him could read him like a book, but he preffered not to loose control either way._

_ "It's been a while, child." the man's voice was like silk. Smooth, soft, and comforting, but he could feel the amusement the man felt from the tone of his voice. He remained silent while his father watched him. He wasn't going to say anything._

_ "I don't believe it is polite to ignore a direct question, Harrison."_

_ Damn. There went that idea…wait, he used his name. He called him Harrison._

_ "You…you know who I am?" he asked hesitantly, looking up into the warm crimson eyes above him. His voice was smooth, emotionless, but dry. The man smirked at him, and came closer. He didn't dare back away. His father reached a hand out and touched his cheek. He hid a wince when it came into contact with a glamoured bruise. No one knew about the mission he had just gotten back from, and he did not want anyone to know about it. Least of all his father._

_ But then again, he forgot what benefits his father gained as head of house._

_ Crimson eyes narrowed at the hidden wince, and jade eyes widened slightly as the Dark Lord traced the outline of his glamoured bruise with a long finger, rage growing in his scarlet gaze. He barely stopped himself from paling when that furious gaze was turned on him, all to grateful when it softened slightly. His father was going to avoid the topic at the moment, but not for long._

_ A table with two chairs appeared next to them, and his father studied them with a calculating glint in his eyes, nodding to himself as if deeming them worthy. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sky disappear with a worried light in her own blue eyes. Her two masters were about to talk for the first time, and with clashing opinions of one another, she had every reason to be worried._

_ "Sit." was the command that came from his father, and he found himself obeying without a thought. More than a little shocked at the rapid obedience, he turned to his father, who was lounging gracefully in his chair, with questioning eyes. His father caught the gaze, and smirked._

_ "You are of Slytherin blood, and magic's hand-picked heir, and as Head of House, your blood and magic recognize me as one to trust and obey. It will not be so all the time, only those times that I need to. You are my son and deserve to be treated as such." He felt overwhelmed at his father's revelation, perhaps that was why his father's smirk broadened._

_ "We have much to talk about child." a low grumble from his stomach unwillingly brought a soft flush to his pale face, one that intensified when he heard his father chuckling across from him._

_ "I haven't had much to eat today." he mumbled under his breath, a tad nervous when his father's laughter was immediately cut short._

_ "When was the last time you ate?" the man demanded, his crimson eyes narrowing on his son. "When was the last time Bellatrix fed you, or called you for a meal that you didn't just come for?" the last question was hissed, not in parseltongue, but pretty close. His father was __**mad**__._

_ He mumbled something incoherent, and was set on edge when his father's eyes glowed with rage._

_ "__**3 MONTHS!**__" his father roared. He didn't see what the big deal was. He ate on his own, and Bellatrix never called him unless it was important. The dinner the night his father returned had been something that Bellatrix had told him before that he needed to be there. He couldn't understand his father's outrage, though._

_ His father's rage cooled suddenly, as if it were simmering, but it was still there. The man's eyes searched his face, landing once again on the hidden bruise. He summoned Sky and told her to bring some food for them. The house-elf disappeared and reappeared a few seconds later, arms laden with trays of food. She set them down gently on the table and handed him a potion. His father's eyes studied the potion in his hand, narrowing slightly when he realized what the lavender potion in his hand was. Before the man could ask him, however, he stowed the bottle away in his jacket pocket. __**(Oh, did I forget to mention he was wearing muggle clothes? Silly me.)**_

_ "Many things indeed." he heard his father mutter as they began eating. When they both were full and satisfied, he felt his father's eyes land on him._

_ "Now," the man began, watching as he turned to him, jade eyes guarded, but grudgingly curious. "Where did you get that bruise?"_

_ At the question, he froze. He couldn't tell his father, it would out everything about his secret life, which is meant to be just that. __**SECRET!**__ His eyes drifted to the sealed doors, praying one of his brothers would come in and unwittingly save him from his father's attention. And surprisingly, it worked._

_ His oldest brother, Damien, barged in arguing with his other brother, Gabriel. Both stopped short at the sight of their father, the __**Dark Lord**__, talking to their 'wimpy' younger brother. His father turned to them, a curse on his lips, and he took the opportunity to melt into the shadows like Alyssa taught him too, and reappeared near the front doors, fatigued. And just in time to hear his father roar in anger._

_ "__**HARRISON!**__"_

_ Well, shit._

_**End Flashback**_

He quickly surrounded himself in the shadows, concentrating on Alyssa's teachings. He had already done it once today, and he was sure he was about to pass out, but he had to get away for a few hours, until his father's anger cooled.

Concentrating on the shadow's comfort around him, thinking of the days they'd comforted him when his family didn't, thinking of Alyssa and her help, her support, her friendship, he concentrated...and disappeared.

In the entrance hall of Riddle Manor, a crimson-eyed man roared in anger.

In the bedroom of Alyssa Potter, a jade-eyed teen appeared and collapsed in fatigue, and a violet-eyed teen gasped in shock and recognition.

"Harry!"

**SHADOW**

**Hi everyone! Thanks soooo much for all the reviews :) I know the chapter isn't as long as it is supposed to be, but I was in a rush to get it done before we (my family and I) leave for Thanksgiving diner at a friend's house. Happy Thanksgiving everyone!**

**Your lovely author,**

**Emerald Sage :) **


	6. The Potter Family

**Author's Note: This Chapter will be in Alyssa's P.O.V., along with the Potter parents occasionally. It will not say when P.O.V.'s change, but you should know.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter…grrrr.**

Chapter 6: The Potter Family

Alyssa gasped as she saw Harrison collapse on the floor, from what she knew to be fatigue. She rushed up to him and checked his pulse, sighing in relief when she felt it. Her violet eyes were thoughtful when she studied the teenage boy in front of her. She knew that only few things would make him desperate enough to use Shadow Travel, much less to shadow travel to _her_ room. He hadn't developed the ability enough to claim his title as Shadow Walker.

She thought on this as she lifted Harrison up, and placed him on her bed. He really was too light, she thought as she raced down the stairs where her mother was making dinner.

"Mum?" she called, smiling as her mother turned around at the sound of her voice. Lily Potter, nee Evans, was a gorgeous woman. Her figure was naturally skinny, but lithe and agile, and her red hair matched her temper. Her green eyes were found only on one other person in the world, the boy currently unconscious in her bedroom, which brought her back to the reason she was down here.

"Yes Lyss? Something wrong, sweetie?" her mother asked worriedly. She smiled in reassurance to her mother.

"Actually, Mum, Harrison appeared in my room, unconscious, something had to happen for him to use his ability like that!" she informed her mother, concern lacing her voice. Her mother's emerald eyes darkened as she heard something was wrong with the boy she considered a son.

"Get your father, sweetheart, I'll go check on Harry." She said strictly, adopting the tone she used when she had worked at St. Mungo's as a Healer. Rushing up to her daughter's room she watched as said daughter ran towards her father's study.

Alyssa obeyed her mother instantly, running to her father's study. Pausing only to knock, and not waiting for an answer, she rushed in, startling James Potter. James Potter was a handsome man. His dark brown hair was messy, and short, his features were boyish but aristocratic at the same time. His lovely hazel eyes were covered by metal framed glasses, and they currently showed surprise and confusion.

"Lyss, what's up?" he asked, concerned.

"Harry's unconscious in my room, he used Shadow Travel, he must've been in a dangerous situation!" she said in a panicked tone. James' hazel eyes darkened, as his wife's did, when he heard of the situation his pseudo-son was in. He also rushed up to his daughter's room.

When they reached the room, they saw Lily treating the teen on the bed. Alyssa sighed in relief as she saw her mother smile and get up.

"He'll be fine, hun." She told her daughter. "Now let's get some food in our stomachs before I explain anymore." She said strictly, though with a smile on her face. James lingered a moment after his wife and daughter left.

He turned to the boy on the bed, the one he had personally trained. He would always remember the day he first met the child.

_**Flashback**_

_ He was waiting impatiently for her to get here. He had come across a requirement in his father's will, one he didn't like in the least. He had to arrange a marriage contract for his only daughter with a member of the Black family to renew the old bloodlines. This renewal had to occur every century or so, and apparently it was time again. Since Draco Malfoy, son of Narcissa Black-Malfoy was already engaged to a young lady, he had to look at Bellatrix, as she was the only one with a boy he could arrange a marriage with._

_ "Potter." His name was sneered, and he knew who was standing behind him. He turned and nodded slightly at the witch behind him, along with her three sons. He was grudgingly curious, who was the boys' father? Triplets, that was unheard of in the magical world!_

_ "You wished to arrange a marriage contract with one of my sons?" she sneered. He nodded curtly, studying the boys behind her. "Very well, these are the three triplets. You may choose one, notify me of your decision." She said coldly as she walked off farther into muggle shopping center they had arranged to meet at._

_ The first boy, seemingly the oldest, with onyx eyes, looked at everyone with a superior glint in his eyes. When they locked gazes, he could tell that the boy, only six years old or so, thought less of him than garbage. Definitely not this one, he snorted mentally._

_ The second boy, the middle perhaps, was a carbon copy of the first except for the grey eyes. He had a similar look in his eyes, only slightly less pronounced, as the boy seemed more disdainful than superior. This one wasn't the right one either. Only one boy left, then, he thought morbidly._

_ The third boy, most definitely the youngest, was a complete opposite of his two brothers. His gaze wasn't superior, or disdainful, it was guarded but curious. While his brothers were already showing signs of being heavily built, and had lots of baby fat clinging to them, this boy was built lithe, agile, and naturally skinny, much like his own wife and daughter. The boy's hair was short, and while messy, was not overly so like his, and was the color of a raven's wing. The little child, looking younger than his six years, had astonishing emerald eyes that matched his wife's. This child didn't look anything like a Black, but his features were aristocratic, showing he did come from a high-class family, and he did have Black blood running through his veins. The emerald eyes studied him curiously, and calculatingly, and he could feel the power swirling around this child._

_ "Who are you?" came the soft inquiry. He found himself smiling at the small child, as though reassuring him._

_ "My name is James Potter. What is yours, little guy?" he asked gently. The emerald eyes shone with undiscovered intelligence and cunning as the boy's face lit up._

_ "I'm Harrison!" he whispered softly, but excitedly. The boy looked around quickly, and then leaned in to whisper, "But daddy called me Harry, and he told me that mummy doesn't like me but he'd always love me. But daddy left when I was little. Daddy hasn't come back yet." He said sadly. "You look like my daddy, but he has different eyes." He smiled sadly at the small boy._

_ "What color were his eyes, Harry?" he asked, maybe he could find out who the father was, maybe he could help the little guy…_

_ "Red." The boy said innocently, and his blood froze._

_ Red, red, __**RED!**__ Only one man on the planet had red eyes, and he realized slightly late that the boy looked like a carbon copy of him, only younger._

_ "What is your last name, kiddo?" he asked gently, but urgently._

_ "Black-Riddle, sir." The boy responded promptly. He nearly fainted when he heard the last name. __**Riddle, Tom Marvolo Riddle, I am Lord Voldemort, Holy Shit!**__ But Dark Lords aside, he really adored the little boy in front of him, who seemed to love his dad._

_ "Say, little guy, would you mind if I became your daddy?" he asked gently. The boy looked up at him, his eyes were guarded._

_ "No, I don't mind, but you'll be my other daddy, no one can take my daddy's place." The little guy said sternly…well, for a six year old. He grinned widely._

_ "Have you decided?" a sneering voice asked behind him. He turned to face Bellatrix, and nodded curtly._

_ "Yes, Harrison here will be the perfect choice for my daughter." He informed her. She snorted but didn't say otherwise._

_ "Very well, do you have the promise rings?" she asked. He nodded curtly and pulled out a small box from within his robes. Inside had two silver rings. One had alternating diamonds and emeralds on it, spelling the letters A. P. on it. It was his daughter's promise ring. It would be worn on a silver chain until her coming of age, which would be when she could wear it to declare her engagement. The other was alternating diamonds and amethysts, and would spell Harrison's initials, H. R. on it. It would be worn on a silver chain until his coming of age, when he would be able to wear it to declare his engagement. How coincidental that the rings jewel matched each other's eyes. Damn it, his father and his blasted Seer abilities. He took Harrison's out and put it on a chain, pulling it gently over the child. Now, no one could remove it without Harrison's and Alyssa's permission. It wouldn't be affected by the elements, so it wouldn't be damaged in the shower. He smiled gently at the boy who would one day be his son-in-law. Somehow he knew he could trust his daughter to this child, the child he would come to think of as his own. With that thought in mind, he said a quick good-bye and walked down the street and apparated out of sight._

_**End Flashback**_

__He pulled himself out of his memories. He walked over to his future son-in-law, and pulled out the silver chain the teen wore, and fingered the silver ring gently. The boy had begun calling him Daddy James, and now, just Dad. He smiled and brushed a bang away from the teen's forehead before leaving the room, not noticing his daughter watching him with a relieved expression on her face.

She walked up to the teen on her bed, and ran a hand through his midnight hair, unlike her own auburn one_, _and whispered softly,

"Get well soon, love. Dad and Mum miss you, so do I." she left the room, well aware of the smile stretching across Harry's face as he slept, and oblivious of the one stretching across her own face as she walked towards the dinner table and sat down to eat.

**Woot! It's done! A little bonus chapter for Black Friday! It's free **

**Emeralds**

**Please review **


	7. His Youngest Son

**Hi people! My internet is down, and so has the entire block's...if they don't do anything about it soon, I'm going to go have a nice, and well deserved yell *evil grin* So, since I have nothing else to do (minus homework, but that'll be done in a half an hour), I'm going to see how many chapters I can write before I blank, and from there, I'll decide when I'll update again :) So, more chapters, longer wait, less chapters, less wait, it's fair for everyone :)**

**Emeralds :)**

**DICLAIMER : I swear, whoever came up with the **_**brilliant **_**idea of disclaimers should be introduced to my rather fierce temper *wicked smirk*. But, since I have to do it (you are making me feel bad, just get it over with already) I DON'T OWN HARRY POTTER. There, **_**happy?**_

_**(This chapter is in Voldemort's point of view! Here he finds out about the engagement...somebody's in trouble!)**_

Chapter 7: His Youngest Son

He was fuming.

Silently, of course. It wouldn't do for Bellatrix, or any of the others, really, to find out his real interest was centered around his youngest son. But, he thought, who _wouldn't _be curious when a boy disappears into thin air right in front of you when there are wards against transportion surrounding the manor. He stared at the crack in the wall where his heir had hidden himself. He was seething with rage, mostly at the two idiots that barged into the kitchen right when he had the child cornered into a question. As he had turned, the child had disappeared, just like he did moments ago. But there was another thing that interested him.

The teen had been near collapse. He had used so much of his magic in one moment that it had nearly sent him into unconsciousness; and yet the teen had managed to cast spells, and disappear from the manor successfully. He smirked, knowing the teen would have to come back eventually, but he was not prepared to wait for _eventually_. He wanted his son with him _NOW._

He strode forward, towards the staircase which led to Bellatrix's room. He paused, before knocking. He didn't want to walk in on her again. One night was enough for him for a lifetime. He heard her call for him to 'Enter', and he pushed the doors open, his robes sweeping behind him, making him quite the picture.

"My Lord!" she said in surprise as she knealt before him. He stared at her with veiled disgust. She had done something, he knew she had done something while he was gone.

"Enough," he ordered in a raspy voice. All that shouting had left him hoarse, something that didn't happen often. "Enough, Bellatrix. I have some questions about the children's lives while I was gone."

She bowed low and stood, her head bowed to show her respect. He let a sly smirk cross his face briefly before it vanished.

Perfect.

"Yes, my Lord. I have all the paperwork, the documentation, pictures, and medical records in a separate trunk. Would you like me to get it, my Lord?" she asked him carefully. He nodded, watching her as she turned to retrieve the trunk. When she placed it in front of him, he studied the trunk before asking,

"This trunk contains the information for the triplets? All _three_ of them?" he asked, stressing the 'three'. She nodded, albeit, hesitantly. "I should find everything in here, then." It was not a question. She nodded again. He finally looked at her and swept from the room.

**SHADOW**

He was in his study, rifling through the pieces of parchment, searching for a location, any possible location. The only time he stopped, he stopped in shock. He stared at the paper, disbelief etched on his usually stoic face. His son, pronounced a _SQUIB?_ That wasn't possible. He had held his son the night he was born, the baby had held more power than any child he had ever seen, possibly even himself. He had also seen his son perform magic with ease and skill, wandless as well. There was no way he was a squib, not with all the signs pointing the other way around. So, with all the evidence, he came to a simple, but completely possible, conclusion.

Sabotage.

Someone intentionally pronounced his son a squib, ensuring that his child would feel scorn and hatred from Bellatrix and his brothers, basically ridding him of a childhood. And they had made sure to do it _after_ he had disappeared.

Someone was going to die.

He looked for the healer's name on the child's report, only for his eyes to narrow when he couldn't find it. This person played a good game, he thought bitterly as he stared at the big, black inked word, **SQUIB** in the status section. His eyes narrowed, and he cast an authenticity charm on it, widening slightly when the parchment glowed red, signalling a fraud. He snarled in outrage. Someone was interfering in his son's life, and that was unforgiveable in his eyes. His son was his alone. His crimson eyes lit with fires of fury and the non-existent wind began blowing ferociously through the open window. He came back to his senses when a piece of parchment hit him in the face. He pulled the parchment off of his face, glancing at it briefly, then glancing back, and locking his gaze on it, eyes widening as he read the bold black letters at the top, and the names below:

_**Marriage/Betrothal Contract**_

_**Between**_

_**Harrison Thomas Black-Riddle and Alyssa Vivienne Potter**_

He stared at the contract. It wasn't possible, he thought, his rage growing by leaps and bounds, as he realized what Bellatrix had been keeping from him. His son had been promised to the Potter heiress, and the other way around as well.

This wouldn't happen, he though, if he had anything to say about it. He snarled in the ferocious wind. The parchment stayed stubbornly on his desk, refusing to move an inch. His eyes narrowed as he skimmed the contract.

The Potters had made a deal with the Black family a milenia or two ago: Every hundred years or so, a Potter heiress or heir, would marry a daughter or son of the Black house. So far, the Potters had always had heirs that married daughters of the Black families. And while Dorea Black had married Charlus Potter only two generations back, it wasn't part of the contract, it had been less than a century, almost fifty years less. It didn't count. Alyssa Potter was the first Potter heiress in centuries. Lily Potter couldn't have any other children due to complications at the girl's birth, and therefore, James Potter would never have a male heir to carry on his line name. Alyssa's child would carry the name of her husband, as would she, and the name would die out, but the fortune would be passed through the family.

The two had been betrothed at age six, something that had his eyebrows climbing up into his hairline. They had exchanged the promise rings, and wore them around their necks. They would be formally engaged upon Harrison's 17th birthday, and had to marry within two years of the engagement. Both had been consentual and not forced. James had approached Bellatrix about the contract and told to choose one of the triplets. Thanks to Charlus Potter's Seer talent, he had forseen the child that would marry his granddaughter, and crafted the rings accordingly. Only when James had decided on the appropriate child, could he open the ring box and see whether his father had been correct or not. Two locations were also written on the contract, and he classed them as location of residence. Harrison's said _**The Caretaker's Shack, Bedroom next to the Library, Riddle Manor, Little Hangleton. **_Alyssa's said _**East Wing, Third Bedroom on the right on the Third Floor, Potter Manor, Wales. **_Underneath it read their current location. He inhaled sharply, hopefully it would be able to tell where his son was currently at. Alyssa's said _**East Wing, Third Bedroom on the right on the Third Floor, Potter Manor, Wales.**_ Harrison's said _**East Wing, Third Bedroom on the left on the Third Floor, Potter Manor, Wales.**_

He smirked. First he would go get his son, then he would talk to the Potters, and after that, he would yell at Bellatrix for approving the marriage without his consent. He stood, but didn't leave. He felt a tug coming from the trunk, something was calling him. He rifled through the parchments and pictures until he came across a glowing album. The title stated in big bold letters :

**SHADOW'S ADVENTURES**

(Not that he knows we took these)

He opened the cover and nearly dropped the book. On the first page, smiling and waving up to him, was his youngest son. His raven locks were short, unruly, and he looked like he had been caught up in a brutal storm. His skin was tanned and muscles toned, he was wearing black skinny jeans with a t-shirt that said _**Don't you just LOVE irony?**_ on it in silver script, and black converse with silver words doodled on the shoes in sharpie. He had two bands on his right wrist and a watch on his left, the promise ring hanging from its' silver chain proudly, emeralds glowing dark jade, and diamonds glinting in the sunlight. And most mystical of all, the verdant gaze that met his was glowing, creating an almost etheral portrait of his son.

Almost reverently, he turned the page. His son was standing in a corner, backed into it by five men, all holding guns and knives. The teen was bleeding from a gash in his left forearm, blood soaking his already crimson shirt. The teen's eyes flashed violet for a moment. At the bottom of the picture held a caption, _Shadow, backed into a corner on his assignment spying against the Dark Lord in France. Age 12._ His heart beat slightly faster at the caption. _Spying?_ What in Maker's name did his son do while he was gone? He looked at the next page with no small amount of dread. None of it went away when he saw the picture of his son sleeping peacefully on a hospital bed, the bed covers were in white as were the teen's P.J.s. He barely looked ten years old. _Shadow, sleeping in the hospital after a nasty injury he got while fighting the terrorist army underwater. Ten more minutes and we would've lost him. Age 10._ There was a slight smudge at the end of that caption, almost as if the writer was crying. He turned the page with increasing amounts of dread, staring at the picture on the page with horror and fury growing. The picture was of his son, around age seven. The boy chained to the wall by his wrists, wearing a torn black t-shirt, and black board shorts with _Puma_ sneakers. Bruises littered the boy's body, as well as cuts that were still bleeding. A man, whose face he couldn't see, was pressing a knife into the boy's neck, making a small cut, just enough for it to hurt. The expression in his son's eyes was pure hate and terror. His hands trembled as he read the caption, which was littered with teardrops just as his son was littered with bruises in the picture: _Shadow, in captivity, bound and injured. Cause of injury: Marcus X, widely known torture expert, working for terrorist organization and had uncovered Shadow while on an assignment. Age 6 ½ . _

He trembled as he shut the cover. He and his son would be having a discussion about this, _soon._ But first, he had to go find his son and bring him back.

**Well, there we go, another chapter down, and damn, it's my second longest! I'm posting the dates at the bottom of the page. If I've finished writing it on a certain day, but haven't updated it, then my internet wasn't functioning at the time.**

**PLEASE REVIEW!**

**Emeralds :)**

**p.s. Please review! I love reveiws, I'm making it a rule that if I don't get at least ten reviews for each chapter, then I'll not post the next one until I do :) Even if I do have it ready. Unless it's a special occasion or event and I think you guys deserve it.**

**Completed on: Monday, November 29****th****, 2010.**


	8. Found You

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi People! Happy December! I've already gotten over 15 reviews for the last chapter alone! It makes me happy :). By the way, a lot of people were wondering why I set the review limit, well here's the answer: I want to know that my writing is appreciated, and not just seen and disgarded. I write for myself, but I love hearing what others think of my story. If any of you have seen my story list on my profile, you'll notice that this story has the most reviews out of all of them. It's because of you, my readers and reviewers, that I keep updating at the rate that I have. For all the other stories, most of them haven't been updated in months. I may not abandon them, but at the moment my focus is on this story :). So read and enjoy :)**

**Emerald Sage :)**

**(This P.O.V. will be Harrison's!)**

**Chapter 8: Found You**

When he woke up snuggled into a warm comforter.

Wait. Warm?

His eyes snapped open, and he relaxed when he realized where he was. He knew that Bellatrix kept him outside because of the draft, the result was him wearing a jacket all the time, even during summer. His shack was never really warm, and was a disaster during the winter. He dissappeared every winter with Alyssa and the Potter family, if just to keep warm. His Dad (**A/N: James will be Dad, Tom will be Father or Daddy, trust me, there is a part that features that.**) was sympathetic towards his situation and negociated with Bellatrix to have him over in the winter. She was all too glad to get rid of him, for a while, at least. He glanced around him, and smiled when he saw James Potter's sleeping form in a chair by his bed side. He sighed and looked at the way his Dad's neck was bent. He pushed back the covers, shivering slightly at the cool draft that hit him. He stepped out of the bed when he realized he was wearing his emerald green silk pajamas he had left at the Potters the last time he had stayed here. Shaking his head to clear the memory, he walked over to the man he thought of as a father.

"Dad," he called softly, setting a hand on the man's shoulder gently, "Dad, wake up." The man opened his eyes blearily, looked at him for a moment, before shaking his head to wake him up a little. The man stood, shorter than his father, but at least six inches taller than him, and drew him into a tight hug.

"Hey, Buddy." he smiled slightly at one of the nicknames his Dad had come up with. "You alright? You did quite a number on yourself, kiddo. Two locations back to back, when you're not yet a master at it? You could've killed yourself with that stunt kiddo!" the man berated him, and he hung his head, knowing he deserved every word of it. "But it was pretty cool." the man lowered his voice to a whisper, and leaned in with an interested gleam in his eye. He felt his lip twitch, it was just like his Dad to lecture him about doing something dangerous, then comment on how amazing or awesome said dangerous thing was.

"James?" a familliar voice called from downstairs. He grinned, it was his Mum. He could never call Bellatrix his mother, not after everything she did to him.

When he had first met Lily Potter, he had been seven years old. James had brought him home for the winter, and Lily wanted to see the boy who would take care of her daughter when they grew up. She had seen him clutching onto James's pant leg, with an innocently curious expression in his emerald eyes, exactly the same shade as hers. (**A/N: I know I've said jade as one color and emerald as another, but both are similar shades of green. To the Potters, his eyes seem emerald colored, and around everyone else, they are Jade. Don't ask me why yet, I haven't figured it out myself, but I will!**) Her heart had melted at the sight of him, it was visible in her eyes, he remembered. He thought she would've squeezed him to death with that hug of hers. She had took another look at him and immediately declared that he was '_**too thin to be healthy**_' and dragged him into the kitchen, followed by an amused and slightly worried James, worried because he was amused. After the first few days, he had trouble not calling her 'Mum', afraid she would reject him. But she had noticed, and demanded it. Now, he had no problem with it. Lily was his only Mum. As far as he was concerned, Bellatrix had given birth to him, but Lily had helped raise him. She was far more deserving of the title than Bellatrix.

Shaking himself out of the memory, he frowned when he realized that her voice was strange. He strained his ears to hear the conversation.

"James? Are you there?" he heard her call again, her voice sounded strange.

"Yes, Lil, what's going on? Are you alright, sweetheart?" his Dad asked concern lacing his voice.

"James, some one wants to speak with us." her tone was extremely nervous, almost anxious. It made him curious as to who was calling, especially considering the time of night he judged by looking at the midnight sky and crecent moon.

"Lil, are you alright? Who's calling at this time of night?" the man demande, panic making its way into the eldest Potter's voice.

"Some one, Jay." alarm flashed across his face, as he remembered what they had told him one afternoon.

_**Flashback:**_

_ Lily was standing in front of him with a distressed look on her face. She bent down to the ten year-old's height, looking him dead in the eyes, ones that matched her own._

_ "Harry," she began, and he knew instantly it was important. They rarely called him 'Harry' in such a serious tone. And with Dad standing next to her, with __**that **__look on his face..._

_ "Sweetie, you know your father will return one day, right?" she asked anxiously. He nodded, wondering where this was going._

_ "You realize that you are the heir of Slytherin, and his heir as well. He will want you close by, and he's quite possessive." James muttered beside her. He tilted his head slightly, he could see this would be a problem, but couldn't see how just yet._

_ "If he finds out you and Lyss have a marriage contract..." she trailed off at the end, but he heard her loudly and clearly. If, no, when his father found out, there would be trouble at both ends of the string. "So, we've come up with a warning system." she explained. Hope passed across his face that he was sure none of the two could've mistaken for anything else. His Mum smiled softly at the look on his face._

_ "We have nicknames from school that we used to use, but we don't any longer." James explained, "If we use them, that means your father or mother is nearby or within listening range. People that know us won't find it strange that we use them, it won't have any significance to anyone other than us three and Alyssa, whom we told earlier. We had to wait until you got here to tell you." The man said patiently._

_ He nodded and asked, "But, what are your nicknames?" Lily smiled at his inquiry._

_ "I am LillyBell and James is Jay. We have other nicknames for each other, so we won't mix them up and set up false alarms." Lily informed him. He smiled, then asked if he could go back to play with Alyssa. They smiled at him and he turned around to leave, but not missing the relieved glances they shared at having gotten that off their shoulders._

_**End Flashback**_

He forced himself to calm, their warning system would be completely useless if his magic began spiking. He knew with certainty that his father would sense him miles away, and if he was in the manor…well, there's no need to go into detail with that possible disaster. He didn't even think Bellatrix would tell his father about the betrothal contract. If there was one thing his father wouldn't want, it was his heir already promised to someone and he had no say over the matter. After all, the opinion of the heir is always taken into account. He strained his ears to hear more, before straightening, slapping himself on the forehead muttering '_**Idiot, forget about magic, why dontcha?**_', before summoning his wand to him, thinning his aura to almost nothing so no one could feel the magic being performed. Quickly performing a listening charm he learned a while back, he pressed his ear to the wall. He didn't dare the door, he remembered the last time. Muttering darkly to himself about werewolves' sense of hearing, he turned his attention back to the conversation taking place just outside the room.

"I'm sorry, I don't believe I know you. Can we help you with something?" he heard James ask cooly. _Shit._ James was rarely this cool with anyone friendly.

"Yes, you can help me, Mr. Potter." Another cold voice said, this one oh so familiar. _Oh no. Oh no, no, no…it is him_, he thought, dread increasing with every word. "You can hand over my son." _ Shit._

"And what makes you think we know where he is?" he heard his Mum shoot back, in the coldest tone of voice he had ever heard from her, he rather thought that even Dumbledore and Declan would quail under her temper. And Declan…well, that was saying something.

"You've done a remarkable job hiding him, I must admit." Now his father's voice was blatantly sarcastic, _oh dear, he was going to get it badly when he got home_, "but I believe you forgot that betrothal contracts state the current location of the people it concerns, along with apparation instructions." He felt like slapping himself. Of course they had directions, and he had been foolish to think that Bellatrix wouldn't tell his father out of fear. That would be exactly _why_ she would tell him.

He felt himself panic as the door knob twirled as it was magically unlocked and the door unsealed. Thinking on his feet, he cast a disillusionment charm and a notice-me-not charm, knowing he couldn't slip into the shadows yet, he was still recovering from the last two trips. Back to back was a _great_ way to tire him out. He was debating risking the fatigue when he felt his father's magic swirl into the room and immediately wrapped around him, making the charms useless. The man himself walked into the room seconds later, crimson eyes staring at the spot the magic was centering around, smirking all the while. He had no time to move as his father began casting the counter charms in rapid succession, and the magic around him held him in place as they made contact. Only seconds later, the man's crimson eyes were boring into his own, now visible, jade green ones. He didn't even hear Lily and James rush into the room, only to pause at the doorway when they saw the two of them, and felt the magic swirling around them. He only had eyes for his father, watching with dread as the man's lips pulled into a smirk as he said two words:

"Found you."

**YAY! I'M DONE!**

**Hey everyone, thanks for the reviews! This chapter is written in size eleven font in times new roman. Yay! Please review!**

**Emeralds **

_**Completed: Wednesday, December 8**__**th**__**, 2010**_


	9. Losing Control

**Author's Note: Hi everyone! I have sworn a pack of writer's silence, starting on Sunday, December 26****th****, 2010 until Saturday, January 1****st****, 2011. So, since today is Christmas, everyone gets a treat…the next chapter of the story! Enjoy! **

**Emeralds :)**

**Chapter 9: Losing Control**

He was scared.

No, he was horrified. His father had found him, in a place he thought would be his safe house in the world. He thought the Potter's house, someplace he considered his _home_, would keep his father away. He felt foolish for thinking such naïve thoughts, and felt mortified when he felt his cheeks warm up due to embarrassment. His jaded eyes locked onto the roaring garnet fire that was in his father's flaming crimson eyes, barely hiding a wince at the fury they showed. His father was less than happy with him. He was surrounded by proof that his father was less than pleased: the man's magic was twirling wickedly around him, entrancing him and entrapping him in its' fiery blaze; scarlet, gold, orange, and onyx swirling around him in an evil parody of a dance. He had never seen something so beautiful, yet so deadly. He knew that the magic flowing around him had killed many, injured and hurt, hundreds of times, and it had also healed and helped the ones his father cared for. _Not that there were many of those people_, he thought, and hoped his father was more inclined to the second option than the first. It would get him out without a scratch…wait.

He felt like slapping himself. This was his father they were talking about. But still…he hoped his father would go easy on him. Though, with the look his father was currently giving him, he wished he had enjoyed more of his time at Potter Manor, because it didn't look like he would be coming here any time soon. If his father had his way, he probably wouldn't see living daylight until the man deemed him ready to.

Even though he knew it was coming, he nearly shrank back when the man advanced on him.

The door slammed shut in the elder Potters' faces, a silencing charm and a locking charm designed in parseltongue was cast on it. The man was not taking a chance in them listening in. The man's ruby eyes never left his own emerald ones. The man crossed the spacious room in few strides, stopping in front of him. The man's hand shot out and grabbed his chin in a death grip, making him wince in pain. The older wizard's eyes studied his face, he noticed the man stopping over the glamoured bruise, making him wince internally. _Father was going to be a menace when he finally gets to interrogating me, _he thought, knowing it was going to happen eventually.

"Foolisssh child." He heard the whisper from his father, the man nearly slipping into parseltongue. _Shit, he's pissed._ "You ran from me." Although it was a statement, his father seemed to wait for an answer. Hesitantly he nodded his head, confirming the man's statement. Crimson eyes narrowed.

"You will tell me why." It was an order that he knew better than to refuse. He nodded immediately, and his father adopted a smirk. "But this is not the place to do such things." And before he could protest otherwise, the man had taken him by his arm and was pulling him towards the door. Dismantling the wards surrounding the door, he pulled it open to reveal the Potter parents. His father pushed passed them and dragged him down the stairs.

"What's going on?" he heard the feminine voice call from behind them. He stumbled into his father as they paused abruptly. He turned, and he felt his blood freeze.

Alyssa was standing there.

He didn't know how his father would take the marriage contract, or if he would accept Alyssa, and so he felt he had every right to be scared for her life. He turned to his father, and let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding when he saw the man's hardened eyes soften at the sight of the Potter heiress. Of course, they hardened when they turned back to him, and narrowed in calculation. He flinched inwardly, making sure his mask stayed on. His father nodded slightly, in approval, before turning and continuing down the stairwell, dragging him with him. He shared one last relieved look with Alyssa before he was pulled out of her sight.

His father remained silent as he was dragged out of the manor and to the apparation point. Looking at the elder wizard's eyes, he knew he was in for hell when they returned to the manor. He only had seconds to think that maybe he shouldn't have acted so rashly, when the man turned on the spot and they vanished with a barely audible '_crack!_'

**SHADOW**

They reappeared at the edge of the manor's wards. He looked to his shack with a longing expression as his father dragged him through the grounds, up to the gates, but he knew he couldn't stop there for two reasons. 1. His father's grip was so tight it was cutting off circulation, and 2. His father would probably _crucio_ him for showing such disrespect. He returned his attention to the gates ahead as they passed his shack. His father flicked his wand and the gates turned misty while they walked through, solidifying after they had gone. The man led him up to the fourth floor, where his rooms were. Only the Dark Lord was allowed on the fourth and top floor of the manor…and now he was.

He gulped as he was pulled through the man's bedroom, too fast for him to take notice of his surroundings, and into his father's study. He was gently pushed into the single chair in front of the man's desk, noting that a sticking charm was placed on him the moment he sat down. He glanced at his father nervously when the man sat down and stared at him from across the desk. Of course, none of this nervousness showed up on his face.

"I'm not happy with you, child." His father said, crimson eyes narrowing as they studied his every move. He had to work hard not to fidget under his father's x-ray-like gaze. _Why did the man make him feel so unsure of himself?_ He asked himself. He didn't bother nodding, either.

"You've been hiding things from me." _Obviously._ "You've hidden them well, but considering whom I am, you couldn't have hidden them well enough from me." _I know that __**now**__._ "Tell me child, why did I have to learn about your adventures and dealings with the Hunters through a photo album?" _Wait, __**WHAT?**_

After that statement, he stared at his father in pure shock. There was no way…how did he find out?

"How?" he managed to say, through his shock. He hadn't expected his father to know them by name, and even if the man knew, he hadn't expected the man to come right out and tell him! He could tell by the man's narrowed eyes, that he wasn't making things better for himself, but the man answered the question anyways.

"I found a photo album titled _**Shadow's Adventures**_, and interestingly enough, on the inside cover, there was a picture of _you_ with the name _Shadow_ scribbled under it. Tell me child, why did I have to find out that my son and heir has been risking his life continuously for almost ten years now?" _Shit, Shit, SHIT! _He was shaking in the seat, this wasn't happening, it wasn't supposed to happen so soon. He was going to lose control soon, he knew it, and only his father was there.

That thought didn't exactly comfort him.

"Father…" he began, but couldn't seem to get anything past his mouth, he was frozen, and he was _**scared**_, as much as he loathed admitting it.

"No excuse then." He heard his father speak through a haze, the man's voice cutting, and sharp, it pierced him deeply, and he flinched.

He felt his power levels shift dangerously, flowing violently, begging him to be released. The man's gaze snapped to him, and his father's scarlet eyes widened, before narrowing in concern.

He felt, more than saw, his father standing up and moving towards him. He suspected the man sensed his rioting magic, he had known he would lose control soon; he hadn't released his magic from its' binds in so long…. The man traced his cheek, before snapping something onto his wrist. The metal felt cool against his burning skin.

"Let it loose child, I'll be here in the morning."

That was the last thing he heard before the world turned black.

**YAY! I'M DONE WITH THE CHAPTER!**

_**Merry Christmas everyone who celebrates it! Happy Holidays for everyone, and a Happy New Year! **_

_**Hope you enjoy the chapter, please read and review!**_

_**Chapter completed on: Saturday, December 25**__**th**__**, 2010**_


	10. A Father's Musings

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi everyone, these next few days (January 14****th****, 2011 to January 21****st****, 2011) are my freshman year semester exams! Since it's my first year in high school, I'm still getting used to the exams and the schedules. If this doesn't make it up until after exam week, you'll know why. Thanks for the reviews! You guys are amazing!**

**And on to Chapter 10! Your lovely authoress, Em =)**

**Disclaimer: *whines* I'm a FRESMAN! Do **_**you**_** think I own Harry Potter?**

**Chapter 10: A Father's Musings**

He stared at his son's sleeping face.

He watched the teen's chest rise and fall as the boy fell into a restorative sleep. Harrison had lost control in his study, and he had no idea why. He had been so determined to get answers out of his son that he had failed to notice the shift in the teen's power levels. He remembered when he _had_ noticed the levels were shifting rapidly, overcoming his son's control. While he hadn't shown it, he had panicked.

_Rise and fall, jump, no…swim, don't leave me! PLEASE! They'll kill me! Help!_

Those words ran through his head as he saw his son sway. He hadn't known, at the time, whose thoughts those were. But he knew now. His son had been unconsciously projecting stray thoughts, most likely from previous missions. On the thought of the missions, he scowled. He would've never let his son out of his sight if he had suspected the teen's dealings with the Hunters. They had people he would kill to get to. Masters of every kind, experts, mages, engineers, both non-magicals and magicals worked together to resolve any kind of problem. They might be a peaceful organization when discussing problems, but they were a powerful underground underneath the front.

_Powerful organization_, he snorted at the thought, _that was an understatement of the largest sort._

He looked over at the sleeping teen with a jolt. He didn't want his son working for them, for their underground operations were dangerous. Their spies and assassins were always dealing with people like crime bosses, wannabe dark lords, terrorists… (You get the point), and he didn't want to risk his child in a situation like that. He didn't take his eyes of his son, he couldn't. Not his baby boy…

_**Flashback**_

_He stared around the nursery. _

_It was on the fourth floor, directly linked to his rooms for his easy access. Bellatrix had a nursery for the other two on the third floor._

_ He looked around the sky blue room, in search of a certain someone, and his eyes softened when they met excited emerald green._

_ "Daddy!" a childish voice chirped. The bright green eyes widened as he walked closer, and the small babe held up his little arms, asking to be held. He chuckled at his one year old son, and picked him up, holding him close._

_ "How's my little boy this evening?" he asked the babe softly, smiling when the boy giggled and buried his face in his chest._

_ "Gwood Daddy!" the boy chirped, and he smiled. If his followers could see him now, they'd probably faint. They thought he was cold hearted and cruel, hell, he thought he was cold hearted and cruel…but he never expected his son to show him another side of himself. He remembered his son's first word. The boy had shouted "Wed" and pointed to his eyes before giggling. He had been so shocked that he hadn't noticed his son poking him. When he finally noticed, he stopped his son, and asked him '__**what's red, son**__', and the boy had replied, much to his shock, '__**Daddy's e-eywes awe wed!**__' before giggling._

_ He chuckled softly at the memory, sitting down in a rocking chair, bouncing his son on his lap._

_ He was still in the same place, an hour later, after his son had fallen asleep. He was studying his son sadly. He knew he had to leave soon; the ritual that would strip him of his body could only be completed on certain days, and it was necessary for his immortality. He would miss his son, oh yes; he would miss his little one. He placed his son in the small crib, staring at the babe sadly as he stood in the doorframe._

_ "Sweet dreams, my baby boy…"_

_**End Flashback**_

The ritual had malfunctioned slightly. It had messed everything up. He had been meant to come back after a few weeks, but instead, he waited almost thirteen years before he returned to his body. Thirteen years since he had seen his baby boy.

It had certainly given him a shock when he had seen his son sneaking off the grounds. The boy had grown so much, looked so much like him. He recalled the giggling green-eyed babe he used to bounce on his lap, the babe that almost never cried when he was around, and compared him to the boy he had seen crossing the grounds that morning. The emotionless, jaded jade-eyed teen, who looked indifferent to the world…to him, what had happened to his son?

He ran his hand through his son's raven locks, smiling when the teen leaned into the familiar touch. He missed their interactions, even if his son had been just a baby when he had left; he missed the little bundle of energy that kept everyone happy no matter their state of mind. He recalled what had been written in the back of the photo album:

_**Shadow: Harrison (Harry) Black-Riddle**_

_**Age: 14**_

_**Date of Birth: 31**__**st**__** of July, 1980**_

_**Years of Hunter Service: 1984-…**_

It had infuriated him. Ten years…and he could've lost his son at any point, any time. _But he didn't_, he reassured himself, gently stroking his son's cheek, proof his son was still alive, still here, _still with me, he's safe here._

Gently, he lifted his son off his bed, frowning. _He's much too thin, and as light as a feather. I need to get some food into him; he didn't even eat much for breakfast the day I confronted him._ He walked through the doors leading to his rooms, carefully locking them and activating the protective wards, before moving to the one across the hall, and opening it slightly, slipping into it.

The room had an earthly tone, with beige, forest green and maroon walls. The furniture was made of mahogany wood, and was polished so it shined. The bed had silky burgundy bedding with silver accents on the same colored hangings. There was a nightstand next to the beautiful bed, and a wardrobe against the left wall, parallel to the bed, but closer to the door. There were four doors in the room. One was the one he had walked through. The second was next to the nightstand, it led to the bathroom. The third was a study that could be remodeled to the user's liking; it was next to the wardrobe. The fourth door was located on the right side of the room, next to a bookshelf that had been filled with fairy tales and children's books. The last door was connected to his rooms.

As he laid his son down gently on the large four-poster bed, he pondered on how the room used to look like. The baby blue nursery, with toys and books and an old rocking chair, was no more. The rocking chair had been moved to his study, and the old toys had been put away in a closet. The books, though, were on the shelf near the fourth door. He moved towards the main doors, warding it with all kinds of magiks, parselmagic included. A minute later, he decided to ward it against shadow travel. Only those keyed into the wards could enter or exit. At the moment, only he was keyed into it both ways, while his son was only able to enter it. It was a way of keeping his son safe, and preventing the teen's escape if he tried. He warded the door leading to his room; a bright silver streak appeared horizontally on the polished mahogany door, singling it out.

Satisfied, he walked back to his son and conjured an arm chair to sit in as he waited for the raven-haired teen to wake.

**SHADOW**

He had been waiting for hours now.

It had been early morning when he had collected his son from the Potters; it had been almost noon when his son's magic levels returned to a somewhat normal state. It had been mid-afternoon when he decided to move his son to the teen's new room. It was now almost 9 o'clock at night, and the teen had yet to stir. He began to ponder the thought that he had lost his mind.

Sometime between them moving to the new room, to now, he had begun to pull the fairy tales and children stories off of the shelves and read them to his sleeping son. He had just finished reading the tale of the three brothers, when he heard a soft chiming ring come from his son. He looked at the teen, and saw that the teen's jeans pocket was vibrating, causing the boy to stir. He reached over, and carefully extracted the ringing device.

It was a BlackBerry. A modern cell-phone*, that had been charmed to run off of magic. He didn't know that his son had one. He looked at the Caller ID, and it read: DUNCAN MCKNIGHT.

A wicked grin slipped onto his face as he hit the 'accept' button put the phone to his ear.

"_Kid, you live to make my life __**hell!**__ What the hell did you think you were doing? I thought I told you to take it __**easy**__ after that last encounter with the torture specialist, __**not**__ to go after him __**AGAIN!**__ Do you have any idea what would happen to __**me**__ when Tabitha got a hold of me! She holds __**me**__ responsible for __**you**__! How in the nine levels of __**hell**__ did you piss them off so badly that they had ten freaking mages send cruciatus curses at you __**AT THE SAME F***ING TIME! **__And how the __**hell**__ am I supposed to explain this to Tabby? Huh? She's going to freaking murder me, you little brat! __**TEN**__ frigging crucio's at once; do you have any idea how badly you were shaking when you got back. Tabitha is still yelling at me, like, she's just across the hall…well, and what do you have to say for yourself, Shadow?"_

By this time, he was furious, but he managed to keep his anger at bay to speak to the man on the other end of the phone.

"Unfortunately, Mr. McKnight, my _son_ has nothing to say right now, as he is asleep. On the other hand, I have much to say, Mr. McKnight, but I won't say anything right now; I don't want Harrison to wake up, now do I?" he drawled into the BlackBerry.

"_Shit._" He heard the man whisper on the other end of the line, and could practically see Duncan McKnight paling at the realization of who he had just spoken to. The call cut off as the young man hung up, but it wasn't a problem in his eyes. He just had more to ask his son when the teen woke up.

"Father?" came the sleepy murmur, and he looked down, and found himself staring into sleep-dazed emerald green eyes.

**SHADOW**

Hundreds of miles away, a pretty dirty-blonde haired young woman turned her ice blue eyes onto her pale blue-eyed brown haired companion.

"He knows, doesn't he." She asked him. The man turned away, looking up at the starry skies.

"He knows." replied Declan McKnight, "He knows."

**DONE! I'M DONE! I'M DONE WITH THE CHAPTER!**

**Hey everyone, happy belated New Year, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Please read and review! You guys are amazing!**

**Chapter completed on: Saturday, January 15, 2011**


	11. Elemental Interrogation

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi everyone! I just updated a chapter a few hours ago, but I was just dying to write this chapter. If it's published after the completion date, it's cause I waiting for those ten reviews. If they come within the day, this chapter will be up and done, and free for everyone to read. Enjoy! Your lovely authoress, Em =)**

**DISCLAIMER: La la la la la la…wait, was I supposed to be doing something?**

**Chapter 11: Elemental Interrogation**

The first thing he saw when he woke up was his father holding his phone. Unfortunately for him, he was still to sleepy to deduce that his father had potentially over heard something of importance.

"Father?" he mumbled sleepily, watching as his father's garnet eyes turned to meet his sleep-dazed jade ones. His phone was slipped out of sight as his father reached over and stroked his cheek gently. He looked around; he didn't recognize the room he was in. His father seemed to notice his confusion, and smirked.

"We are in your new room, child." The man said with a neutral tone that had a hint of smugness concealed in it. But he wasn't focused on that, he was focusing on what the man had said.

"A new room?" he asked. He already had his shack, so why was his father moving him now? Did he do something wrong…oh. He looked up at his father's smirking face, and he knew he had been caught. He should've sensed the wards around his door sooner. They were set so only his father could get out. They were even warded against shadow travel, he noted absently. His father had gone all out to keep him in this room, and more importantly, within the man's grasp.

"Yes child, a new room. This is a room that I have personally warded to prevent any unwanted intrusions." _More like excursions, damn, he knows._ And judging by the triumphant gleam in the Dark Lord's eyes, the man knew exactly what he was thinking. "Now," the man began, "I believe you were going to answer a few questions for me." _Shit, I hoped he had forgotten._

Immediately, he found the downside to his position on the bed. The man towered over him while they were standing, now, he was lying down and the man was leaning over him, and by default, towering over him. _Intimidation_, he thought instantly, _he wants me to answer his questions, and I'll do it cause I'm scared of what he could do. Not of him, _his inner self added, remembering the man who would play peek-a-boo with him as a baby, _never of him._

"Yes, father." He answered, resigned. He knew his father would get answers, whether it would be from threatening him, to asking him, to force-feeding him veritaserum; he knew his father would get answers. He sat up, watching as his father studied him. The man reached for the glamoured bruise, and he covered a wince at the contact. He didn't dare shy away. The man smirked at him when he answered, but he easily saw how the man's eyes narrowed when he winced.

"Good." The man said, and withdrew a few things from his cloak pocket. His eyes widened when four things were placed on the nightstand, and temporarily spelled so only his father could access them. The first item was his BlackBerry Bold; _I could've sworn it was in my jeans pocket, how the hell does my father have it!_ The second was his wand; _I should've guessed he would have it; he wouldn't have left it on me when I collapsed_. The third was a strange key; _I have absolutely no idea what that is for…on second thought, I don't want to know._ And the fourth, the fourth had him paling rapidly.

The fourth was a vial of veritaserum. _I know he would think about using it, but I didn't know he would __**actually**__ use it! Oh hell, I'll be in so much trouble if he asks the right questions._ The man noticed his pallor, and the ruby eyes watching him softened slightly. His father took the vial in hand, uncorking it, and took his jaw in the other hand.

"Now, will you answer me honestly, or will I have to use the truth serum?" the Dark Lord asked him. Too scared to do much else, he whispered his agreement to answer the questions honestly. His eyes followed the vial when it was set down, but not closed. He had a feeling his father would use it on him, and he didn't want that.

"Where did you acquire that bruise?" _Direct questioning_, he mused, _he's not taking any chances with me and the possibility of my escaping. He wants answers on I can give._

"I acquired it on my last mission for the Hunters." he replied quietly, not meeting his father's eyes. That didn't help, as the man reached over and tilted his chin up so he was staring at his father. It did nothing for his confidence level.

"How, child; do not make me ask again." He nearly flinched at the man's calm tone. It was belying anger; directed at him or at his attackers, he couldn't tell.

"As I was escaping base, one of the guards engaged me in hand-to-hand combat. I held him off for a while, but two others joined him soon, and they overpowered me. I was knocked unconscious, and when I woke up, I had bruises all over. They all healed, except that one. One of them men was a mage that holds a grudge against me, and he cast a spell that makes the bruise stay visible for two months before it starts to fade. It was originally meant to be permanent, but my magic negated most of it." he answered quite truthfully. He looked up to his father's face, and nearly flinched back from the look of fury that washed over the man's handsome features. _Features just like mine. _He thought ironically, _it's funny, that I look exactly like that when I'm furious, hell, I don't think it's funny, cause at the moment, it's bloody terrifying._

"When and why did you join the Hunters? How did they contact you? How did they _find_ you, for that matter?" the man asked. He nearly winced, the man really wanted answers.

"I joined the hunters when I was four years old. Bellatrix had taken us out to Diagon Alley and I had gotten lost; it was my first time in the alley, and I had no idea where I was going. A girl, about eleven or twelve years old, found me wandering in non-magical London. She introduced herself as Tabitha Marley Ravenson, but to call her Tabitha Marley, Tabby, Marley, or Raven. She was very pretty, and when she took me away from the electronics store I was in front of, a lot of the boys began to follow us. She gave them a look that could kill, and we walked on. When we were a safe distance away, she apparated me to HQ, where she explained what was going on. She explained that they had sensed a newly awakened Elemental in the area." he was very reluctant at giving this last piece of information to his father, and the man could see that, but the man would piece together the information anyways. Besides, he didn't want to drink veritaserum.

"The Elemental she sensed was me." That was as far as he got before his father lunged across the bed and grabbed his chin. The man used the abnormally strong grip on his chin to pull him backwards until he was seated in the man's lap in the arm chair. His father forced three drops of veritaserum down his throat, and held him still until he went limp in the man's lap due to the potion's influence.

_Well, shit I'm in for it now._

"What did she sense?" the man demanded, his father's arms wrapped around his waist and torso.

"She sensed a newly awakened Elemental." He repeated in a monotone voice. _Damn it! And I was almost immune too!_

"An elemental…my son, an elemental." He heard the man mutter behind him. There was a tone of wonder and…was that _pride? _ "Continue with the rest of the question, child."

"I joined the Hunters to learn to control my elemental abilities and manipulate the wild magic for my own purpose. I joined them to learn how to spy and how to defend myself from Bellatrix and my two brothers, as well as others. I learned how to survive on my own and how to make my own money while I was still in my toddler years, and not attract attention. After all, who would suspect a six-year old assassin?" he added sarcastically.

"When did you get hit with ten _crucio_s at once? And _**why?**_" he froze at the question.

"I was battling Marcus X, the torture specialist who seems to work for everyone I go after, and has an obsession for getting back at me for nearly crippling him when I was five. Ten of the mages that worked for him had me surrounded and cast the Cruciatus at the same time. I was already beaten and bloody by that point, so I really had no chance to avoid any of them. I dropped to the ground to dodge, but one had been aimed there in the first place, and I had nowhere to move. They closed in around me and cast the curses until I was unconscious, which took about ten to fifteen minutes. They were as surprised as I was when I escaped later that same day, completely coherent, not in the least bit insane." he responded hesitantly. And with good reason too, his father looked absolutely vengeful.

The man behind he gently grabbed his chin, and turned him around.

"Why did you run from me?" the man questioned softly, the Dark Lord's fiery scarlet orbs gazing into his own viridian ones.

"I did not wish to answer any questions about my life." he answered honestly. The man snorted.

"And yet, by running, you ended up answering more questions than I had planned to ask the day."

He found himself in an embrace, his father's arms surrounding him, providing comfort that he hadn't had in over a decade. He was rather tired, he convinced himself as he absently noticed the starry sky, the moon reflected off of the silver bracelet on his wrist.

_Maybe, just the once…_ he told himself before burying his face in his father's chest, falling asleep with a smile on his face…_just the once._

**SHADOW**

He watched as his son snuggled into his embrace, and he chuckled. The boy was tired, he knew that. Perhaps he shouldn't have grabbed him that harshly, and he should've waited until the teen was well rested before interrogating him. His arms tightened around his baby boy, and he cast a quick _Tempus._ When the clock read well after midnight, he looked down and thought…_just the once, _before pulling his son closer to him and drifting off to sleep.

**I'M DONE! I'M DONE! I'M DONE WITH THE CHAPTER!**

**Hey everyone! This is the eleventh chapter! I really wasn't planning the elemental twist until about twenty minutes ago (about 5:25pm), so, I'll have to revise a bit of the plot to fit this new twist, though I have to say, I like the twist. Your lovely authoress, Em=)**

**Chapter completed on: Saturday, January 15, 2011**


	12. Alyssa's Diary, Entry 2

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is going to be a very short chapter, I apologize. It is time you saw more of Alyssa's Diary. I will probably update sometime next month considering how late in the month it is; probably before Valentine's Day. You all have permission to nag me if I don't update soon! Your lovely authoress: Em =)**

**DISCLAIMER: I'm bored…*sigh* I don't own HP.**

**Chapter 12: Alyssa's Diary**

Harrison is a wonderful person. Reading what you have so far, it is quite easy to tell, no? When I met him, I was only six years old. We became best friends almost instantly, and protected each other with an intensity that was frightening. My parents adored him, I loved him. Everything was fine for a while…until he came back from that mission.

He scared me when he came back, he had just turned fourteen. Apparently, the bitch he called his mother had found him sneaking out of the wards one night, and allowed his two brothers to beat him up. The next day, he came to me…and I was so scared.

His beautiful emerald eyes were haunted, jaded. He crushed his emotions with a ruthlessness that frightens my father, and he has seen so much death and destruction…. I stood by him, every day, every night, silently accepting the fact that the Harry I knew and loved might never come back. Every morning, I would wake at dawn and cross the hall, opening his door silently, the carpet muffling my footsteps. And every morning, at dawn, I would find him sleeping; it was the only release he had from the memories.

However, it was one morning like that, when something happened. I had woken at dawn, as every other day, and had made my way over to his room, padding softly on the crème colored carpet. I opened the door to his room, as silent as a grave, and made my way over. Only, this morning, his usually serene face was a mask of anguish. Glistening tears streaked down his pale, flawless, complexion, emerald green eyes closed in agony, full lips parted in a scared "O" as silent screams of fear and horror tore through his throat.

My hand had risen rapidly to cover my mouth, my eyes widened as he thrashed on the bed silently, as if making noise would earn him a painful rebuke. I felt tears well in my eyes as tears fell down his pale face, etching marks on his flawless complexion. I felt like sobbing when I heard his chocked sob being held back. Then he spoke, in such a desperate tone,

"H-Help, p-plea-ease."

I blame my next actions on instinct, but now, I am glad I reacted the way I did. Seeing him so desperate, so helpless; it shattered something within me. I leaned over him, a pressed my lips to his. His sobs faltered, and his tears fell slower, and I began to pull away from him, until his hand shot out and grabbed my wrist.

"Stay, Lyss. Please." He had asked me, emerald green boring into my vivid violet. I held him that night, the night I comforted my shattered best friend. In the afternoon, my parents woke me, a smile on their faces, as they gazed down upon us. I looked down upon Harry's peaceful face, and I smiled slightly, especially when he never let go of my arm. We had started something new, something wonderful, out of something miserable.

We were more than friends now.


	13. Tabitha's Thoughts

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter should be done and up by Valentine's Day, which is a Monday this year. It's around 10pm here and it's Saturday, February 12, 2011 where I am right now. So, hopefully I will get this done. My apologies if this is a short chapter, and I thank everyone who will actually read this and won't just gloss over it and proceeding to the actual chapter. This chapter is in a new character's point of view. Just saying.**

**DISCLAIMER: Do I look like J.K. Rowling? *people point at Halloween costume* he he…that's my sister's…. I own only my OCs, no one else, oh, and the personalities, somewhat. **

**Chapter 13: Tabitha's Thoughts**

She looked out of the top-story floor-length window, her ice-blue eyes watching the setting sun. Smiling, she watched the sky's darkening color erupt in gorgeous shades of violet, rose, and orange; she rarely had time to do such simple activities. She turned as the sun fully set over the horizon, leaving a myriad of colors shrouding the city.

As she turned, she caught her reflection in the vanity next to the windows. She saw a tired blonde-haired, icy blue eyed, 21 year old; nothing to marvel at, and yet she found herself being gawked at even with a notice-me-not charm applied. Of course she knew others saw her different than she saw herself. Others saw a young woman with golden hair that shone with the radiance of the sun, blue eyes that glowed with the intensity of the stars they mirrored occasionally, and skin that reflected the moonlight that only shone at night. Others watched her walk by, claiming she glowed, claiming her a child of the famed Goddess of Love, the lovely Aphrodite, if such a feat were possible. Her parents had chosen well when they named her. Tabitha meant beauty and grace from its original language.*

She offered her reflection a sardonic smirk. She went a corner, where she pulled a rope casually, causing dark purple curtains to fall over the floor-length windows, blocking the moon that shone down upon her.

Casually, she strolled to the center of the room and gracefully collapsed on the silky onyx colored bedding that layered her queen-sized bed. The sheets contrasted with her pale skin, blonde hair, and silver silk night-gown that only reached mid-thigh. Laying her head on a frost-rimmed obsidian silk covered pillow, she stared at her midnight-kissed bedroom

Her furniture was all made out of dark red cherry wood. It might not go too well, but she adored the color and insisted on it. Her bed frame had a canopy attached, where four charcoal curtains hung, ready to be drawn in order to give the bed's occupant privacy at a moment's notice. To the left of the bed was a door that led to her penthouse. Its handle was polished so the silver shone frostily in the darkness of her sanctuary. Across from her bed and slightly to the right was where the walk-in closet was.

She grinned at the thought of her closet. She was not vain; she was rather modest in fact. She supposed it came with being raised at an orphanage, she thought darkly. She knew she looked Veela-like to others, and had a similar allure that attracted men like flies to honey. She knew this, and she loved dressing up. She had never gotten the chance to before, so now she was taking it with everything she had. Her closet was an adolescent girl's heaven, she thought with a lopsided grin. It had everything. Different styles that appealed to the multiple seasons, weather conditions, comfort levels, temperature settings, etc…. She remembered one night she had thrown caution to the winds and rocked the club in an outfit that would get any man hot and bothered on sight.

She giggled at the thought of that outfit's effect on Declan. He had taken to stalking her until she agreed to his many date requests, so one night she wore the outfit and headed to the club under an inky black trench coat. When she reached the club, she disposed of the trench coat at a nearby coat closet and took one look back; she could've sworn that Declan had been drooling.

_Declan_, she thought, _that one is more trouble than he's worth._ Every time she considered Declan as cute, hot, or anything else pertaining to them in a 'romantic' relationship, she had reminded herself that Declan was named _Striker_ for several reasons. One was strictly work related, he was an incredible marksman; he could shoot anything, _anything_, with perfect accuracy without using the thing before. "_Strike 1, Strike 2, Strike 3, and you're out!_" was Striker's catch phrase.

The other gave her a pause. Declan was a playboy, probably due to the nature of his upbringing. She had seen and pitied the girls that he would go out with, knowing the poor thing would get her heart broken within the month; but she couldn't blame them for falling for him.

Not when she herself had fallen for him. And she had fallen hard.

She sighed and gently drew herself out of her thoughts, pulling herself into a sitting position on her inky, shadow covered bed. She saw the shadows change shape when she wandlessly willed the curtains to let a bit of moonlight through the heavy drapery.

_Shadow…_

Her full red lips curled into a soft, fond smile, pearly white teeth sparkling in the sable night, as she thought of her favorite little patient. Shadow was only fourteen, the youngest member the Hunters had ever accepted, and would ever accept. She had sensed the boy when he had only been four years old; his elemental magic had been so strong for her to sense him so young. The poor boy had been neglected by his mother, and his two triplets had been spoiled beyond belief. Their disbelief at the base had been palpable when she had returned with a four year old clutching her aéropostale hoodie sleeve.

Well, the disbelief vanished after he introduced himself. There had been a shocked silence after he had informed them that he was _Harrison Black-Riddle, and I'm 4!_

They were all in a state of shock that the powerful elemental they had found was the son of the missing Dark Lord. None of them had dared seek for spies within the camp of the Dark Lord of Britain; they admired the Dark Lord and feared his army and what he could do. All they had tried to do around the man was seek refuge away from the battles. Until the mysterious disappearance of the Dark Lord three years earlier, the support for the Dark had increased to the point in where even Hunters, who had sworn to be neutral in the conflict, had begun to pick the man's side.

And then to find out that the boy was _Magic's_ heir, and Slytherin's heir. The heads were frothing at the mouth at the amount of power the boy held. And he was only _four_. No attempt to manipulate the child had followed, the child saw through anything they tried. She had been picked to be the boy's unofficial guardian, and the boy saw her as a sister.

She groaned when she remembered Declan's call from earlier in the morning. He had gotten a good rant started, yelling at the teen was a good emphasis as to how much something effected them, when he had paused and a silky, deep, and dangerous voice spoke from the phone that was most assuredly NOT Harrison. When the man called Harry his _son,_ she had almost fainted. _That was not meant to happen;_ she had thought repeatedly, Declan had paled to the point where she had been afraid he would pass out. They had hung up immediately, knowing Harrison would be in trouble when he woke up because of what Declan had yelled out.

Gracefully standing up from her position on the bed, she reached over to grab her ice-blue silk robe and slipped into it, walking over to the desk towards the left side of the room.

Covered in books, her desk wasn't the most organized ones on the planet, or in the city, but she knew where everything was. Reaching underneath the stack of Hardy Boys books, she withdrew a BlackBerry Bold which was a replica of Harrison's. Carefully, she dialed Harry's cell number, hoping that it wasn't his father who would answer. She waited patiently until she heard someone's voice.

"Marley?" a sleepy voice asked. She smiled, it seemed she had forgotten the time difference; how though, was a question she didn't even know the answer too.

"Sorry Shadow, forgot the time difference, call you later sweetie." She said in her melodic voice. Shadow was a sweetheart, an adorable little angel.

"No problem, Lee, later." And she could hear him fall asleep before he hung up.

She chuckled as she walked over to her bed and removed her robe, ready to try and sleep again. Then she heard the doorbell ring. Sighing and muttering about insane people who would try and wake her up at two hours 'til midnight, she opened the door that led out of her bedroom and into her penthouse. Walking through the darkened penthouse, she reached the front door and opened it cautiously.

"Tabs!" she jumped lightly as she heard the familiar voice exclaim that dreaded nickname.

"Declan!" she yelled, watching as the brunet seemingly flinched from her yell while grinning (Declan), "It's 10pm, and I was about to go to sleep! What happened to calling before knocking?" she asked angrily. But Declan wasn't paying attention, he was staring at her.

"What!" she asked, annoyed.

"Tabby," he begun seriously, and her annoyance lowered slightly as she studied him.

"What?" she asked, more curious as to what would draw out his serious nature.

"You're hot." She stared at him and then looked down at herself, blushing slightly as she realized she hadn't worn her silk robe when she left her room. Meaning she was wearing the very short and slightly transparent nightgown in front of a playboy who had a major crush on her, and whom she had fallen hard and fast for.

This was an interesting situation that she would ponder on later. She had things to discuss with Declan. Not for the first time, she wondered if Fate hated or loved her.

_***in an outrageously childish gesture and sing-song voice***_

_**I'm finished with the chapter! *end sing-song voice* Okay, so I finished at 9:23 am, meaning my mom made me go to sleep around 12:45am so I couldn't finish writing. So, I woke up and finished typing it. Here's your chapter just in time for Valentine's Day! Em =)**_

_**Chapter Completed on: Sunday, February 13, 2011**_

_***Did you know that I really hadn't planned to make Tabitha's name mean anything. I just thought it was a pretty sweet name, and it was nagging at me. I was curious as to what it meant and looked it up, and my grin split my face when I looked it up. I was so shocked. It was the greatest coincidence I could've imagined**_.


	14. Lock and Key

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi everyone! This is likely to be a short chapter, I apologize for that. My community is having a celebration for the Spring Equinox coming up, and therefore, my free time is filled. If this gets up before the 21****st****, of March, I'm lucky. This chapter picks up from Harrison's POV from where Tabitha called him in the last chapter. If you haven't read it, you should, you won't understand some of the things without it. Thanks guys, Em =) (March 8, 2011)**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE 2: Hi guys, it's the 27****th of**** March today, and I have absolutely no inspiration on which to write this. My muse has been wandering lately, so please excuse this short chapter. And thanks to all those who actually read the Author's Note and isn't skimming over, mentally (or verbally) complaining on why she hasn't updated early this time. I, for one, will laugh when I get a PM that's complaining about why it's sooooooo late. That's what they get for not reading the Author's note. For all they know, I might be revealing a secret ending. On to the story, hopefully =)**

**DISCLAIMER: *let's get this over with* I don't own HP.**

**Chapter 14: Lock and Key**

He looked tiredly at his cell phone. Marley had just called, forgetting the time difference _again_. Honestly, she was gorgeous and intelligent, but she forgot stuff too. It was more often than not that she would forget the important stuff; things like time difference. He ran his finger over the display on his BlackBerry, pressing down lightly on the menu button on the keyboard. Smiling sleepily, he turned his cell on silent, keeping it in a firm grip, he leaned back onto his father's chest and went back to sleep. He didn't even register the fact that the arm draped around him had tightened, or that the chest he had been leaning on shifted, or the fact that half way through his conversation, crimson eyes had opened and were watching him discreetly as he slipped into the arms of Morpheus.

_**SHADOW**_

When he woke up, he was on the bed, with the burgundy sheets surrounding him. He could feel his nightclothes on him, and he guessed that his father must have switched out his clothes. He didn't want to get up though, the soft mattress beneath him felt really comforting, and he was still tired. He pulled an arm up on the pillow and rested his head where his elbow bent, scrunching up the sheets in his free hand.

Wait a sec…free hand?

He shot up like a rocket, lifting his hand from the scrunched up silk sheets. _No phone._ He distinctly remembered clutching his cell phone before he fell asleep. Speaking of which, he was sure he fell asleep on something harder…oh.

_ I feel like slapping myself, what's up with me today?_

He had fallen asleep on top of his father, his father had probably woken up before he did, and his father probably was responsible for his missing phone. He sighed, groaning, as he lay back down on the sheets. He pressed his face into the pillow to try and recover the lost sleep. There was more than one problem plaguing him.

Before his father had caught him, Declan had been detailing to him the instructions of his next mission. While some of his missions were just basic scouting and information gathering, others were dangerous infiltrations, raids, or assassinations. This mission was one of the latter, and he knew if his father found out he planned on going, he would be locked up in here for the rest of his life. He had absolutely no intention of letting that happen.

Dragging his right arm across his face as he turned, he observed the silver cuff that his father had put on him. He knew from the magic around it that it was sealed around his wrist with his father's magic, and only his father's magic could unlock it. Swearing mentally, he tugged at it. He had no idea what it was for, and he needed to know before he left, *cough* escaped *cough*, his father. Concentrating hard on the silver metal, he focused his magic around the cuff, asking if it would tell him what was on it.

His eyes, which had been half closed in concentration, flew open at the results of his inquiry.

_What did he __**not**__ put on here! _He asked himself, nearly hysterical at the amount of spells and charms placed all over the simple, innocent looking, silver cuff. _Elemental binds keyed to the room, tracking charms, monitors on my health, magic levels, and current status, a Protean charm for some reason, a double set portkey, and instant alarm that sounds in his room if I leave my room. There's so much more on here…_he looked up when he felt the hairs on his neck raising in a way that informed him that someone was watching him. When he realized who was watching him, he gulped…_uh oh._

_**Shadow**_

_**[Change in point of view]**_

_Where am I?_ She thought woozily. She was extremely disoriented. She'd had no idea they would come after her that quickly, she thought they would wait until they were in a deserted area to kidnap her and her partner, not in the middle of Time Square! Not that it mattered; the non-magicals didn't even see it happen.

She paused, glaring at the silver wall opposite her. She had finally re-oriented herself, and discovered she was in a cell. _An experimenting cell_, she realized with increasing horror, not that she let that show on her face. To her knowledge, only Shadow had ever been in one of these cells, and whatever they did to him changed him severely.

Now, Shadow's magic levels were growing, shooting up and out like there were no bounds. His elemental abilities increased until there was no more room for improvement. His magic would become wild and unbalanced at the most random times, and usually he would black out afterwards. If Alyssa Potter hadn't stabilized him the first time…well, he wouldn't be here today. She hoped someone found her soon; she didn't want to be an experiment too. HQ already had a problem; they were using every available resource to cure Shadow. Shadow was their best operative, and their youngest; they wouldn't dare risk him in such a way, especially considering who his father was. She heard faint voices down the hall; it drew her out of her thoughts.

"Did you get him?" a silky voice inquired dangerously. She froze hearing that voice; it sent chills down her spine.

"N-No sir, we d-didn't m-manage to get h-him. W-we got his p-partner." A man stuttered out, frightened of what the other man would do to him for bringing the bad news. The temperature in the hallway and in her cell decreased dramatically. She clutched her trench coat, drawing it tightly around her, and making sure her boots and gloves were secure. It was very cold now.

"You got his partner, but not him. Explain that for me." The voice was chilling, the man was angry. A gust of wind blew through the hall, signaling the man's power…and anger. She was willing to bet her life savings that the other man shivered, or at least repressed one, because that was what she was doing.

"S-Sir, she was a-alone in the middle of T-Time square. We scouted the a-area several times before we t-took her. The boy w-wasn't t-there." The other man said. His voice was increasing in pitch as a sign of his fear, while he desperately tried to keep it down. The man only chuckled at his efforts. She shivered; she hoped the man didn't come her way. The man made a noise of contemplation.

"Very well, show me where she is." _Damn_. She heard footsteps coming her way, and made sure she was in a relaxed pose, facing the bars, an emotionless mask on her face. All Hunters were trained to create a mask in any situation before being sent into the field, it was what kept most of them alive and successful.

Key word: _most_.

The footsteps neared, and finally, a man walked into her view and it took all her training to maintain her composure. Her voice was low and icy when she spoke; she would never forgive him for what he did to them, to _Shadow_, "_**You.**_"

_**Shadow**_

_**[Change in Point of View]**_

He sat completely still under the man's gaze, all the while, he was panicking. _It can't be him, he can't be __**here!**__ Of all places, why would he be here? Father did mention a specialist coming by, but…__**why does Fate hate me so much?**_ He had never thought he would see him in his father's manor, but he should've expected it. He _knew_ his father had dealings with the man, but never that he would come to see the man in his father's manor. _Maker, why does Fate hate me so much? Why him, of all people? Doesn't Father know…?_

But that was the thing, he wasn't sure if his father knew or not. If he did, then his father had probably changed since he was a child, _although, _he thought to himself, _being stripped of your body for thirteen years would change a person_. If he didn't know…

Well, there goes without saying that the man wouldn't dare let Marcus X in his manor, and more importantly, near his _son_ if he did.

_**Completed on: Monday, April 04, 2011**_

_** 5:00pm ET**_

_**Hi guys, I'm really sorry about this, it's really short, but I've been really busy at school. Thank you to all those who reviewed, I really appreciated it, and everyone who has added this story to their alerts/favorites list, you guys are one of the few reasons I haven't given up. I refuse to abandon a story when so many people want to read it, I really want to thank you guys for being patient with me. I will try and get another chapter up during Spring Break, which is, thankfully, in two weeks. Until then, I have so many projects and essays, I've lost count. So much for a new quarter =(. Thank you everyone!**_

_**Emerald Sage =)**_


	15. Revelations and Contemplation

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Well, I'm starting this chapter today (April 8, 2011), so hopefully I'll get it done in a week or so. I'm not going to waste anymore of the space so I'll have more words to write. I make it a minimum of 1, 500 words and no maximum limit. This time, I'm aiming for over 2, 000. Wish me luck!**

OH! I just forgot, on my newest one-shot, Dancing Moonlight, I've gotten a lot of anonymous reviewers who absolutely love to make me feel horrible about my story. This is a message to them (not all you nice people who comment on my story or just read it, this is to those people who seem to enjoy taunting people): Your technique would work if I cared what you said. If it's positive criticism, or just criticism, fine. You seem to forget that if you don't like a story, there is a hand little thing called a BACK BUTTON. USE IT. Otherwise, if you have any intention of bashing my story or stories to make yourself feel better, go *beep* yourself, cause I don't care. And if you've found anything I've written, offensive, I apologize, but I'm not going to stop writing because of that.

**On to the story!**

**Chapter 15: Revelations and Contemplation**

His every instinct was screaming at him to run. The man was standing right in front of him, and even though he was in a disguise, there was no way he couldn't recognize him.

The tanned coffee skin, the single leather fingerless glove on the man's right hand, the one with a familiar insignia, the glint in the man's eyes when he got over his shock of seeing him here, the insane grin that was spreading on the man's rugged features…dear Maker, it was most definitely him.

"Well, well, _well,_" the man purred, dark eyes gleaming as they watched him scuttle further up on the bed; further away from the other man. "I never thought I would see _you_ in the Dark Lord's strong hold. Especially since I am aware he doesn't know of you, _Shadow_." The man advanced on him with each word, each word had him backing up further on the large bed until his back hit the headboard. He watched with wide eyes as the dark eyed male smirked at his show of fear, but he couldn't help it. This man had been responsible for the torture he endured as a small child on his first mission. This was the man whom his night terrors were centered on, the man who had betrayed him after he had trusted him and told him everything, the man who sold him to the experimenters….

"Something wrong_, petit_?" the man's voice was like velvet as he neared, using the small endearment he had always used. The man hurt him so much that the once cherished endearment now felt like a stab in the gut with a hot knife, sweet words twisting it deeper. This man had taught him everything…he had been his mentor. And with a surge of energy and anger, he looked up and met the gaze of the dark eyed man, who was now only arms length away on his right side.

"Isn't it obvious?" he drawled in a bored tone, sounding a bit like his cousin. His eyes, which had held fear only moments ago, now held boredom and amusement, but a spark of deviousness and cunning was visible to only those who knew to look. The man paused, a smirk sliding on his face as he observed him. The man's chin raised slightly in approval. He felt the corners of his lips turn upwards in a semi-smile. His own verdant eyes narrowed as the man's smirk grew. He didn't need the man's approval now, even though he still sought it subconsciously.

"You still seek my approval, _petit_," the man noted, grinning, "I'm glad to see my opinion still counts for something." He glared at the man.

"It doesssn't count for _anything_." He hissed, almost lapsing into parseltongue in his anger. The man's eyes widened slightly at the lisp, and then narrowed.

"There is a reason you are here, isn't there. I assume the Dark Lord of Britain would know whom he housed." The man spoke as if they were discussing the weather, not thinking of past betrayals and torture. The dark eyed male smirked when he saw his eyes narrow. "Well, _petit_, speak up. There is a reason for your presence here. The Dark Lord wouldn't hire me and then ask me to come up to your room to discuss plans for torturing an important victim from the Light side if you weren't involved somehow, and I highly doubt you are the victim this time, _petit_."

Just as he was about to snap another answer back to the man, the doors opened and both their eyes turned to the figure in the doorway. Crimson eyes surveyed the scene, narrowing slightly at seeing the expressions on their faces. He turned to the dark eyed torture specialist.

"Barty." He said in greeting, inclining his head minutely. The man nodded back to him.

"Lord Voldemort." The man replied, a smirk on his face. The crimson eyed man raised an eyebrow, almost in question, before turning to him. Only now did he realize that he was ever so grateful for his father's intervention. The man raised a questioning brow to his thankful expression; he shrugged, not wanting to anger the man at the moment.

"Harrison." The man said, almost fondly, which he was sure befuddled the dark-eyed male. He realized, belatedly, that the other man was about to learn his most guarded secret, but could think of no way to stop it from happening, as common etiquette demanded that he returned a greeting to his head of house by the man's proper title.

"Father." He responded, softly, watching the torture specialist out of the corner of his eye. He saw the man tense, and his eyes widen slightly in surprise, but then narrow in contemplation. He saw the scheming glint in the man's eyes and knew that if he attempted to take the other man down, he would be going down with him.

And as the other man met his eyes, his thoughts were confirmed; the man wouldn't let himself go without revealing secrets he would rather be kept a secret. If the specialist went down, he would crash and burn.

_**Shadow**_

She glared at the bars once more.

She had been glaring at the bars since _he_ left two hours ago. She had known that he had betrayed her, her community, her friends, and_ her partner_ who was also like her brother in all but blood. She knew, but until know she didn't know the extent of how much he had betrayed them. After she had been captured, he had demanded to see her, to talk to her. And of course, since he ran the operations here, his wish was a command. She had been enraged to see him walking free, but calmed herself long enough to speak with him. She refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her lose control.

She should've known it would happen anyways.

_**Flashback**_

_The man chuckled at her icy declaration. His grey eyes glinted with something dangerous while his lips curled into a malignant grin. The man's chin length auburn hair framed his ivory face along with his sharp features. Those full lips curled into a demonic grin at her outrage and slight fear. She knew the man took pleasure at seeing her at his complete mercy._

_ "Yes, "the man said with a grin, "me. It's been a while since I saw you last, Morrigan." Her eyes narrowed in hatred and disgust flickered across her face._

_ "Only my friends have permission to call me by my first name, __**you**__ceased to be a friend when you betrayed Shadow to the Experimenters." She spat. She saw pain flicker across his face, but then it was gone, concealed beneath the mask all Hunters were forced to learn._

_ But she saw it._

_ Her eyes narrowed at him, before she smiled. She knew her action had taken him by surprise, just as the results of her next one would._

_ "How could you? How could you betray him? He considered you his older brother for the Maker's sake!" large crocodile tears clung to her long inky black lashes, acting as though her mask had fallen, as though she was furious at herself and sad because of his betrayal. Inwardly, she smirked like a Cheshire cat; her acting skills were equal only to Shadow's and Raven's. No one else could top them, and no one could see through them._

_ She saw the pain flash over his face, only this time it remained in his eyes as he looked at her._

_ "I did see him as my brother." His words took her by surprise; they were said as a dry rasp, they tumbled from his lips without his dictation. His eyes widened as he realized what he had said, but he didn't try to cover up. It was futile with her, and he knew it. The next words came without further prompting._

_ "He was my baby brother, they promised he would be safe with them, and he was." His eyes narrowed on her slumped form. The grey gaze assessed her before deeming her worthy. "They were improving his magical capacity; they were helping him, even if it wasn't willing on his part." She felt faint, improving ones' natural magical capacity, especially when it was so high above the average already, would be excruciatingly painful._

_ "His magical capacity will continue to increase as his body grows. Once he stops growing in body, the increase in his magical capability will stop growing, but not his magic. It is why his magic fluctuates at the worst times; it is creating new canals and passage ways for his Coming in three years." She stared at him in horror and slight shock. __**This can't be real**__, she told herself._

_ "Have you ever thought of what you were doing to __**him?**__" she nearly shouted at him, her mask finally crumbling underneath her rapidly swelling anger. "Have you ever considered that those __**experimenters**__ were doing more to him than just adding magical capacity? Have you considered that the pain they put him through is the reason that __**he. almost. DIED!"**__ she saw his rapid paling, and decided that no, he had not thought of that. __**But,**__ she thought, as she saw his anger rapidly growing to match her own, __**he knew more than I do. Perhaps angering him wasn't the best way to go about this.**_

_ "He'll become strong enough, soon, to keep the wards up." The statement was said with the utmost calm; it completely understated the reaction she was having inside herself at that statement. Inside, she was recoiling in horror. _

_The wards were made before Merlin's time, when the High Elves still lived on this plane. Before the Elves moved to a different plane of existence, one of the High Princes created a set of wards around an island unknown to the human race. This island was the gateway to the Hells, the lands beneath the Human Realm. The wards kept the vile creatures locked within the Hells, out of the Human Realm. A few hundred years later, a massive attack was staged near the island, nicknamed Hel's Gate, and the wards were severely battered in a massive onslaught of magic from both the Human Realm and the Hells at the same time. The wards weakened to a point of nonexistence as the years passed, letting monstrous creatures, never meant to leave the Hells, into the Human domain. _

_A hundred years of suffering passed before two magicals were born with incredible magical capacity. Merlin Ambrosias and Morgan Le Fey represented dark and light, respectively. They tethered the beaten realm to reality as they fought the vile daemons from the Hells beneath their feet. Nearly a hundred years passed before they discovered Hel's Gate. The final battle at Hel's Gate took all their magical and life energy. They died at Hel's Gate, and the subsequent release of magic from their dying bodies strengthened the wards to their strongest point._

_As the years passed, the legend of Merlin and Morgan changed. The stories misinterpreted the sides of the two magicals and pitted them against each other in their versions of the battle. The daemons and the location of Hel's Gate were all forgotten by the turn of the century. Forgotten by all but few._

_The sole descendent of Merlin and Morgan recalled everything with perfect clarity. He knew that there were still monsters and daemons from the Hells in the Human Realm. He called his closest friends and allies and formed a group that was now called __**The Hunters**__, its original name lost to time, to deal with the threat before the rest of the world discovered it. The location of Hel's Gate and the secret of the sacrifice of the two were passed on through generation upon generation of hunters, the story never wavering in its validity. Only recently had it become known to the Hunters that the wards were now wavering in their strength. Creatures from the Hells had been pounding at the wards for centuries upon centuries, and now, they were finally making progress. The last of the sacrifice from Merlin and Morgan was nearly gone, and as soon as it went, the wards would fail. When the wards failed, the creatures from the Hells would have free access to the Human Realm, and they would be powerless to stop them._

_Now she saw why they had kidnapped Shadow. He was the most powerful child of the age, almost to the point of immortality. If he was sent to Hel's Gate in order to renew the wards, his magic would probably stabilize the wards forever. The only problem was that he would most likely lose his body in the process. His would still feel just as every human would; only he would be composed of pure magic and would be restricted to the isle of Hel's Gate. He would be immortal, no need to eat, drink, or breathe, but she knew it would be a miserable existence. He would forever be alone, protecting the world from the vile creatures in the realm below._

_Her gaze snapped to the man studying her coolly from outside the cell, her anger rose considerably when she realized that this was what they meant to do. It would protect Shadow, it would enable him to live forever in safety, allow him passage to the living realm and the realm of the Dead, and it would keep the rest of the world safe._

_But to her, it was too large of a price to pay._

_**End of Flashback**_

She clutched at the bars blocking her cell door, cursing softly in every language she knew. She had to find a way out of here and tell Shadow and HQ about this. It was the only way they would be able to stop it.

"Psst!" she heard a voice hiss from across her cell. "Psst! Huntress Morrigan!" her sharp brown eyes snapped to a figure in the cell opposite from her. They widened when she recognized the figure with white-blonde hair and eyes shining as bright as mercury in the moonlight.

"_Drake?_"

**Wahoo! I'm done, I did it!**

**Completed on: Friday, April 08, 2011 7:51pm ET**

**Hello, everyone, I bet you guys didn't think I'd get another chapter done within a week, but I did! I even surprised myself on this one. I didn't show much of Harry or his father in this chapter, but I introduce Huntress Morrigan to the story! She will play a major role. And uh-oh, here's DRACO! I wonder how many people saw that coming? Anyways, I'm putting a poll on my profile to decide and finalize who the grey-eyed man will be. If you want to vote, please go right ahead. I will be putting short descriptions of each name if you wish. This story clocks in as my longest chapter yet with 2, 705 words. =) I'm really proud of this story. Thanks everyone! Please read, enjoy, and review!**

**Em =)**


	16. Morrigan, Marcus, and McKnight

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm starting this today, people, (April 9, 2011) but be warned it might not be finished for a while. My mom flew out to Memphis earlier this morning because my uncle had a heart attack. They don't know if it was a major or minor situation, but she flew out because he's her brother and they are family. End of story. The actual situation is that if the case is severe, my whole family here might have to go to Memphis, and I won't be able to write for a while. So, I'm going to try and get it done. I hope everything is alright, because I don't want to have to see my uncle on a hospital bed like I saw my grandmother. I hope you guys can accept this explanation, and to all of those who can't, you are serious **_**messed up**_**.**

**DISCLAIMER: I BID…wait a sec, whaddaya mean I CAN'T BID!**

**Chapter 16: Morrigan, Marcus, and McKnight**

_"Psst!" she heard a voice hiss from across her cell. "Psst! Huntress Morrigan!" her sharp brown eyes snapped to a figure in the cell opposite from her. They widened when she recognized the figure with white-blonde hair and eyes shining as bright as mercury in the moonlight._

"_Drake?"_

"Thank Maker, Morrigan!" he sighed in relief, which had her eyes widening.

"Drake, what the f*****g hell are you doing here?"

"I believe I was dragged here kicking, and screaming."

"I highly doubt that, Malfoy."

"It's true!"

"I'm sure." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm.

"Maker, how the Hunters found you is _beyond_ me." The barb was meant to insult her; she just took it in stride, smirking all the while at the unintended piece of ammunition.

"Of course." It took him a second to realize what she meant.

"_MORRIGAN!_"

"QUIET you idiot! They could've heard us!" she hissed at him in a surprisingly good imitation of Shadow. He looked at her, amused. A smirk curled on his full lips.

"No, they didn't." he said. "But _you've_ forgotten my ability to sense magical auras." She stared at him. He just smirked. She face-palmed.

_Of course, I can't believe I forgot_, she thought to herself, _that ability could be one reason they have Draco._ But she didn't want to continue that line of thought. Recalling what the grey-eyed man told her, she wondered if they were going to copy Drake's skills and find a way to add them to Shadows'. It would add an extra protective layer to the wards if he knew when intruders approached. Shadow was sensitive to magic, but couldn't actually sense the auras unless he tried. With Draco, on the other hand, it was completely effortless. He just woke up one day and saw colors blurring within and around people. His cousin had been around at the time to explain what he was seeing, and therefore, neither the Ministry nor The Dark or The Light had found out about Drake's ability. Thank the Maker for small mercies.

Footsteps echoed in the hallways, and the two froze. Both exchanged looks and rearranged their expressions to emotionless masks. Even if it turned out to be nothing, it couldn't hurt to be prepared.

It turned out that it was only two guards, unaware that the occupants of the cells they were guarding were listening to every word they spoke.

"So I take it Marcus was hired by the Dark Lord of Britain." One mused, he had a slight Parisian accent, but it was the only thing that proved he wasn't from Britain. His English was superb.

"Marcus X?" the other guard asked; he had more of an Australian accent. From what she could discern, he was probably from around Sydney. Then her eyes widened as she met Draco's. She knew that name. "His alias is Barty Thorn Walter. He finds it a bit awkward, but it's necessary when the target is one of the Lord's sons." The two captives exchanged startled glances.

"Yes, you are speaking of the youngest of the three, Harrison, are you not?" the accent was slightly more pronounced in this question, even though it was more of a statement. The second guard turned to the first and frowned slightly, dark eyes contemplating.

"I don't see how I could be speaking of the third when he isn't even publicly known, Jacques." He snapped. The first guard, Jacques, smirked. Blond hair fell in front of grinning doe brown eyes. Only Morrigan caught the side glance he threw at her.

"Why not Stephan? It is still a possibility. I know it is more likely that one of the older two brats would be the target, but the youngest is a possibility. No one knows what he looks like, let alone if he is the Hunter brat." Jacques was scowling at the other man. The second guard, Stephan, was slightly taller than the blond, with bright red hair, blue eyes, and freckles. She smothered a giggle at Drake's scandalized look when the second guard's appearance was revealed to them. In England, he would probably be mistaken for a Weasley.

"The brat that they want is unlikely to be so unnoticed by society. If the Dark Lord had a brat that could do the incredible things Shadow can do, then said Dark Lord wouldn't hesitate to show him off, Jacques. We all know how ego-driven Dark Lords are." And with that, Stephan sped up his slow pace and neared the end of the hall, trying and failing to hide his frustration from his partner. This ended up amusing his unknown audience and his partner.

Jacques lingered only seconds longer after Stephan had left, sending warning glances at the two eavesdroppers, before he too headed towards the end of the hall.

The two waited for their footsteps to fade before they decided to restart their conversation. Or, more importantly, Draco decided to restart their conversation.

"Is it just me, or does Jacques seem familiar?" he questioned her, a nearly unnoticeable glint in his molten silver eyes. She smirked at him.

"No, he is familiar. Did you notice his mannerisms? Do they remind you of anyone?" she inquired although she already knew the answer. The confident gait, the mischievous expression, the tendency to talk in a French accent without realizing it…all these traits reminded her of one person. And as she turned to Draco, she realized he had reached the same conclusion.

The differences were out weighted by the similarities, even their features were the same. The guard they knew as Jacques reminded them both of their favorite college age playboy, Declan McKnight.

_**Shadow**_

(**AN: I'm going to try something new here, this is NOT Harry's or Tom's POV)**

He studied the teen on the burgundy duvet with hooded eyes.

The teen had grown a lot since he had last seen him. The boy was now fourteen, if he recalled correctly. The teen was lithe, with wiry muscles, agile, flexible and had an incredible endurance assisted by his petite frame. The young raven was determined to avoid his eyes, focusing on the leaf patterns on the duvet he sat on. The teen sat awkwardly on the bed, almost as if he was unused to it, the man noted absently. His eyes trailed the teen in an almost obsessive manner, while being subtle about it.

He sighed quietly, too quiet for the Lord to hear him, but not quite enough for the boy. Suddenly, his dark eyes were sought by acidic green ones. He was fascinated by the boy's eyes. Every time the boy's emotions changed, his eyes would change shades until they matched. He offered the boy a small smirk, one that the Lord did not catch, before turning to said Lord to start the discussion.

"You wished to discuss the prisoner's interrogation?" it was phrased as a question, yet the others in the room acknowledged the statement as what it was. A statement. The Lord conjured a chair and sat so that the three were sitting in a triangle-like formation. The boy on the bed, he on the right of the boy, and the Lord centered in front of them. The crimson-eyed man leaned forward in his chair, fingering his wand lightly. He caught the wary glance the teen shot at the man's wand, and his curiosity was aroused. What could the Dark Lord have done to make his own child fear him as such?

"Yes." The man responded, "The prisoner involved is a key member of the Order of the Phoenix. He will have valuable information that might turn the tide of the war." He did not miss the way the man's eyes shot to his son for a brief second. The teen, ever the Hunter, caught the glance, but did nothing. It seemed the teen wasn't willing to engage his father in a discussion on what it possibly meant, most likely because he was in the room.

Smart Child.

"Do you know the prisoner's name? Do you have any information on them, whatsoever?" he questioned. He saw the teen peer at his father curiously for a moment, and then the verdant eyes returned to tracing patterns on duvet he sat on. The Lord nodded.

"Yes, his name is Kingsley Shacklebolt." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the teen stiffen, but this time, the crimson eyed man caught it too. At once, the piercing garnet gaze was turned on the silent teen.

"You know something, child." There was something about the elder wizard's tone that screamed at him: DANGER! He knew the child had caught it too, but obviously he was more equipped to dealing with his father. The teen was not likely to be killed if he spoke out of line. However, he, even as a torture specialist, was likely to be killed on the spot if he dared to cross his boundaries with the dangerous Lord. "Well?" the man inquired, although they all knew it was a demand.

The teen looked at his father warily for a moment. But the wariness showed for only a split second, before it was replaced by an emotionless mask. A mask that the Lord saw through in a split second, though how was beyond him; when the boy put up a mask, even he was hard pressed to see through it.

The man raised an eyebrow, seemingly asking the teen a question without words. The teen cocked his head, green eyes hardening into jade. The man's scarlet eyes narrowed on his son, suspicion clear for seconds before it changed into triumph. The boy sighed as he sat back slightly. He recognized the signs of a silent battle, and it was all too clear who the victor was.

"Kingsley Shacklebolt." The man stated. The boy looked at his father, and then back at him. The teen searched his eyes, as if looking for something, before nodding as he found it.

"_Chacun le sait qui ce gent c'est. C'est un homme qui aime protéger les gents, et parce que il a des enfants et une femme, il voudrait protéger sa famille. Il est un officier avec renseignements important. Il est très important dans le groupe d'Albus Dumbledore. Je le connais parce que mon amie, Morrigan, c'est son partenaire dans l'office. C'est tout ?_ "

The sudden French startled both men, but while the Lord had a translating charm in place seconds later, he was fluent in the language. The Lord was irate, as he had missed certain things from the teen's important information, and said teen's innocent look did nothing to help. He smirked as he thought of the 'information'. It was basic facts about Kingsley; it just confirmed a few things that they had been unsure of. But there was one thing in there that he was sure the Lord wouldn't understand at all.

Morrigan.

Morrigan was the teen's partner for four years now. Morrigan had left her birth parents, normal muggles, after they had forbidden her to enter the magical world when they discovered she was a witch at age ten. Shadow had discovered her in Leisure Alley and sensed her dormant powers. He brought her to the Hunters for evaluation, figuring that it would be no harm to her. His decision changed Morrigan's life.

When she arrived, she carried her muggle name, Hermione, with disgust. It was the only thing she had left of her parents, but she loathed them so much that she wished for it to go. When Shadow asked what name she would prefer to be called over Hermione, she had paused for a moment. She had then gone for the name Morrigan. She did not know if it had any significance, but she liked the way the name rolled off her tongue so naturally. It was almost as if she had been born with the name.

After a year, they discovered she actually had magical relations around the world. Her closest one was her young, twenty year old uncle on her mother's side: Benjamin Skylar. She met with him while in training, and he blood adopted her. Her once bushy brown hair turned to a sleek, straight curtain of inky black, and her honey brown eyes darkened to chocolate. She gladly took his last name, and entered the world of the Hunters as Huntress Morrigan Skylar.

She developed a power, with Shadow's help, that enabled her to age herself and de-age to her actual age. It helped her infiltrate the Magical Law Enforcement. Kingsley Shacklebolt was her partner in the corps. She dealt with paperwork while he went out to enforce the law, but it was preferable that way, the Hunters would receive more information as everything was filed somehow.

The information was directed towards him, not the boy's father. The teen knew he would make the connection instantly, as he had once been a member of the Hunters himself. Although, de didn't know what would make the teen confess something like this unless…_unless…_

His eyes widened, and he wanted to smack himself. The boy knew he had been the one to deliver him to the laboratory, and with the bond he shared with Morrigan, it would be easy to find out that she had been taken captive too, even though the intent had been to capture him. The boy wished to know if she was alright, out of long-lasting harm, but did not wish to ask in front of his father. A smile curled his lips.

"_Pas mal." _He whispered back to the teen. _Not bad, _he had said. He saw the barest trace of a relieved smile on the teen's face, noticed by both him and the Lord. Only he knew what it meant though. Seeing the irritated look on the Lord's face, he translated what the teen had said, word for word. Seeing the irritation morph into curiosity, he decided to take the conversation back to what it had originally been meant for.

"Has the man been trained against usual forms of torture?" he inquired. The crimson eyed Lord nodded.

"All of the members of the Magical Law Enforcement are trained to withstand the basic forms of torture." The man informed him, "Shacklebolt, being particularly high up in the department, will be trained for more rigorous torture than the rest." At this, his lips curled into a smirk, one that had the teen's eyes widening. He knew what the smirk meant, and it meant nothing good for the one it was directed at.

"Then perhaps you should let me have free reign over him." He murmured softly, seeing the teen's horrified expression, he smirked. The teen knew exactly what he was talking about; the teen had experienced his _free reign_ when he was younger. Even at the age of six, the teen could withstand torture that grown men could not, and it made him smile in pride each time the report came in that he had escaped yet again. After all, he had been the teen's mentor for eight years, ever since he entered the corps in '84.

The Lord had seen his son's horrified look, however, and wondered what exactly would cause him to look like that.

"You intend on going all out on Shacklebolt?" the question was smooth, and rolled off the teen's tongue with little effort and a slight American accent. Though from where, he could not discern. His mind registered the teen's question and he smirked.

"Yes. If all of the Magical Law Enforcement are trained to withstand basic and more rigorous acts of torture, that going all out would be the only way to get answers out of him, considering Kingsley's high up position." He responded, his voice taking on a lecturing tone. He used this voice often when training Shadow.

"Why not simply threaten the kidnapping of his wife and children? Knowing we have the ability to capture them and do them harm, it will affect him psychologically, and he will be more _inclined_ to talk about certain things we will not gain from him through physical _persuasion_. Especially since he does not know that we will not harm them." The teen's insight and very Jacques-like accent had him smiling. He had been waiting for the teen to point it out.

"While that is a good solution, the fact of the matter is that we want to keep Kingsley's abduction as quiet as possible. If his wife and children were to be found missing, the first people they would contact is Kingsley himself. If he is found missing– "here the teen cut him off.

"Then the Law Enforcement will take all the known facts into consideration. They will generate a small search for their missing officer, and if they find evidence that suggested the family willingly left on some sort of _vacation_ all will be overlooked, and the only fact suggesting Kingsley was captured would be the fact that he did not alert the Ministry he was taking a holiday." The teen's smirk suggested that the _evidence _will be something they faked. Overall, it was a rather good plan. They could even fake a letter from Kingsley to the Department head so it would be less suspicious.

Nodding, the three of them proceeded to iron out the details of the plan. Smirking, he met the teen's emerald eyes. Oh, he would be having words with the teen soon.

**Oh yeah! I'm on a ROLL! 3,069 words and clocks in as my largest chapter EVER!**

**Completed on: Sunday, April 10, 2011 10:40am**

**Thanks for everything guys, I was a few reviews short on this, but I've been on a roll and I suppose it should make up for the wait that's going to happen. The poll on my profile demands attention, and once I close it and find my answer, I will start the next chapter. So, I apologize but it will be a long wait. That is why I have updated (this makes 3) three times this week. I hope you all understand in advance. My uncle is fine, he woke up last night. I'm very happy. Three thousand words, yippee!**

**Your lovely authoress,**

**Em =)**


	17. Family and Betrayal

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**: HI GUYS, I'M BAAAAAAAAAAAACK! Today (July 1, 2011- 11:49pm ET) is the day I finally uploaded Office onto my new laptop! I couldn't do it before, and before that, my laptop crashed. It crashed in mid-April, sometime after I updated this story. I'd like to apologize to all my fantabulous readers who supported me and kept nagging me to update. You guys were never far from my mind when I kept searching for the Office installer for the past two months (I literally turned my room upside down). I hope you guys enjoy this chapter as much as I will (hopefully) enjoy writing it. **OH!** And the winner of the poll is…:

**CASPER MALFOY! You guys won't see him in this chapter though, sorry!**

Now onto the story!

**Disclaimer: I love you, you love me, we're one happy family; with a great big hug…RUUUUUN! SOMEONE PUT TOM UNDER THE IMPERIOUS! HE'S SINGING **_**BARNEY!**_

**Chapter 17: Family and Betrayal**

_Nodding, the three of them proceeded to iron out the details of the plan. Smirking, he met the teen's emerald eyes. Oh, he would be having words with the teen soon._

He suppressed a grin as they ironed out the details of Kingsley's 'vacation'. The teen observed most of it, but sometimes he interjected with suggestions that, most of the time, would benefit them in the long run. He did not question the Lord's thinking, knowing that, in some ways, the man knew better than he. The Dark Lord seemed rather excited while they discussed the Auror's upcoming interrogation. From what he learned, Kingsley had been the one who had informed Albus Dumbledore about the elder two triplets. As nearly no one knew of Shadow, he had been safe from being exposed. However, the Lord wanted revenge for the discovery of two of his children.

Dark eyes turned discretely to the form on the bed, silently observing. Gently, the boy swayed in tune with the light wind blowing outside, a serene look in his verdant eyes. At peace with the world around him, this was when the boy was at his most dangerous.

As far as he knew, to be frank.

The teen's father, the Dark Lord, watched his son out of the corner of his eye, an adoring light shining in the bloody garnets. This forced him to pause in surprise; he had not anticipated that.

When he had arrived at the Dark Lord's manor, he had been informed that they would be discussing the subject with one of the manor's other occupants, but he hadn't been informed who. It had been to his eternal surprise that he had discovered the teen he had mentored, the teen he knew as Shadow, sitting up in the bed, observing the magic surrounding the silver cuff adorning his right wrist. Not a second later, the teen had raised his head, dread entering his eyes as he looked towards the doors where he stood. At that moment, he had forgone his composure entirely. He knew the teen had seen the shocked light in his eyes, and was frightened by the grin that had spread across his features, but he could not bring himself to care. The teen he had been searching for was here, here in the Dark Lord's home, seemingly kept prisoner by the Lord himself. The teen still sought his approval, although unconsciously, and it never failed to please him that he would always mean something to his little protégée.

He remembered his shock when the Dark Lord entered, and spoke fondly to the teenager, who seemed resigned to the inevitable at the time. He had not known until he heard the word '_Father_' spoken softly by the raven-haired teen. He had not felt more shock in his entire life than he had in that sole moment and it had taken all his composure to keep it from showing. None of that, however, had fooled the teen.

Shadow, _his _Shadow, his little protégée, the boy he could consider his own _son_, as well as his next target, was the youngest child of the Dark Lord. A Dark Lord that all the Hunters respected and feared.

He'd be lying if he said he had expected that. _Big Time._

Their conversation had lulled after the teen's input on Shaklebolt, but it did not matter to the torture specialist. He was content observing his young protégée. The boy appeared ignorant of his scrutiny, and perhaps he was, for once. He allowed a smirk to settle on his features as he observed the teen's magical aura.

It was already twice as powerful as it was when they had last met-when he had sold the teen to the experimenters. Their last meeting would haunt him to the end of his time.

_Flashback_

"_Marcus? Where are we going?" the innocent voice asked him. He turned the thirteen year old boy next to him, and smiled the best he could under the circumstances._

_His heart ached with each step he took._

"_Don't worry Shadow, we will arrive soon enough, and your curiosity will be sated." He didn't want to do this; it was a cruel thing to do to anyone, let alone the boy he considered a son. But he knew he had to, he had no other options, the offer was too much to resist._

_He pulled the child to his side and kneeled down so their eyes were level. His heart beat frantically as he gazed into adoring and trusting viridian eyes, and he tried, desperately, to convince himself that he was doing the right thing._

_But his mind rebelled against his wished. He knew what he was doing would destroy their relationship, the trust the teen had in him would vanish._

"_Shadow, do you trust me?" he asked pleadingly. The teen stared at him, slightly shocked with the question._

"_With my life, Marcus. Why?" he asked curiously. He closed his eyes, trying to hold back the tears that would crack his mask._

"_I don't deserve it for what I am about to do, child." Now the boy was looking at him in alarm, and his hand encircled the teen's upper arm and began to drag him towards the door. He would do it quickly so the guilt would not tear at him so…._

"_Marcus X?" a cold voice inquired ahead of them. They froze, and he stepped forward, arm still gripping Shadow's. A group of twelve surrounded them. They knew what he was here for, and were there to make sure he didn't back out last minute._

"_I'm here. I've brought him, like you asked." He said; the words were forced out of his mouth._

"_Marcus? What's going on?" the emerald-eyed teen asked him, as he tried to move away from him. He only pulled the teen closer. He hugged the teen's trembling form to his own, tightly._

"_I'm so sorry, child." He whispered softly, before raising his voice so the others could hear him, "He's yours."_

_Those two words had betrayal filling the two jeweled eyes he adored so much, and he could feel his inner voices yelling at him, for once in perfect unison. The teen didn't even try to fight it, merely watched as Marcus left him in the middle of the circle of eager experimenters. He couldn't have won anyways, against the twelve, he probably would've won. But never against Marcus._

_Never._

_The last vision he had of the teen before he disapparated, was the tears frozen in once-Innocent jade eyes._

_Apparating to his hide-out in northern France, he did something he hadn't done in over twenty years._

_He cried._

_End Flashback_

He blinked himself out of the memory he had entered, hoping he wasn't on the brink of tears as he was every time he viewed that memory. Re-focusing on the teen, he saw that his eyes were glazed over slightly. His brows furrowed, _who is he communicating with_? His answer came when the glazed look faded, and horror sparked in the rapidly darkening jade eyes.

Then the teen passed out on the bed, the Dark Lord's eyes snapping to his son's prone form within a second, shock in the ruby eyes.

And he was left guessing at what the hell had just happened.

_**Shadow**_

Her chocolate brown eyes slid open as the rays of sunlight hit her face. Her tanned skin glowed slightly in the sun, energy dancing hypnotically over her body, before it was gone. Sighing, she turned to watch her sleeping blond companion in the cell opposite her. Rolling her eyes in slight frustration, she relaxed slightly, her sleek inky black hair falling over her eyes and spilling down her chest. She had pulled her hair tie out a while ago.

Impatiently, she waited for the mercury-eyed blonde to rise from his slumber; she had important news that she would rather not repeat.

Especially in their current location.

Snorting in a rather un-ladylike fashion, she lounged against the cell's silver walls. Yesterday, she had been at her weakest. She had been disoriented, tired, and her emotions ruled her actions. Today, she was calm and confident; she wouldn't let them get under her skin now that she had thought over her situation. It also helped that she had talked to her brother in all but blood while she had been sleeping.

She felt a smirk lift her lips, and couldn't bring herself to feel sorry for the guards on patrol.

Oh yes, that talk had _**definitely**_ helped her.

_**Shadow**_

Doe brown eyes watched the two from the roof of the opposite building with amusement and regret. He couldn't bring himself to feel jealousy towards his twin, not after everything. He saw the way his twin looked at the woman he stood next to; saw the adoration, the devotion, the _love_ in his eyes the moment they saw her. For the life of him, he could not deny his younger twin the one being who would make him truly happy, especially after all that he had done to him.

Unbidden, a tear fell from sad eyes, and he raised a tanned hand to wipe it away. Blond locks fell in front of his doe brown eyes, so different from his twin's pale blue ones, and his brown hair. With one last look at the happy, yet unknowing couple, he took off into the dead of the night.

The discretely watching blue eyes didn't dare stop him.

_**Shadow**_

Inky black lashed fluttered lightly against porcelain skin. It was the only sign that the child on the bed showed of waking. Two sets of eyes waited worriedly; one set was too dark to identify properly, while one set glowed blood-red in the rays of dawn.

Minutes later, though it seemed hours to the two men, verdant emerald eyes slowly opened, blinking several times, as if to assure the location they were in. That was enough for the red-eyed man to stand and walk over to the figure on the bed. Soft whispering was heard by the other occupant as the red-eyed man woke the raven-haired teenager. The teen blinked up at his father in slight confusion. _Where am I?_ He asked himself weakly. His memories of the previous night entered his train of thought almost immediately. Communicating long-distance always gave him a head-ache. The first thing he saw was the concerned red eyes of his father. _He must be really worried_, he mused, _if he was willing to display his worry in front of someone else_. Needing reassurance that it was indeed his father, he spoke almost thoughtlessly:

_"Father?"_ he did see the man tense up in the corner, but was far more focused on the triumphant gleam in his father's eyes. What had he done that would result in…oh.

He had spoken in Parseltongue.

Speaking in Parseltongue around anyone would automatically secure his position as his father's heir. Only the heir could speak Parseltongue. He had consciously avoided using the snake tongue to hopefully dissuade his father's interest in him, even going as far as to act confused whenever the man or a snake spoke in the tongue around him. Now, due to a completely thoughtless remark, he had just confirmed his father's idea that he was the heir. Not to mention that the man behind his father would be aware of this _unique_ trait of his.

Bloody brilliant.

"_Hush my child."_ The man whispered in the same tongue, concern overriding triumph for the moment, "_Relax child, and when you recover yourself, you will inform me of what caused the horror you felt seconds before you passed out."_ The man informed him quietly. He was still on his bed, only now, the covers were pooled around him, mid-chest, and he held a portion of his father's black robes in a death grip. He supposed he was still frightened over what he had heard while his mind wandered. After this uncharacteristic behavior, the man was completely justified in asking questions.

Sighing, he nodded, acknowledging his father's demands, and responded in Parseltongue to avoid the dark-eyed man from eavesdropping,

"_A friend of mine reached through a bond we share. She was in trouble, and needed my assistance._" He explained softly, knowing his father would not accept the simple reason.

"_Perhaps that is part of the reason,"_ the man countered, eyes burning like hellfire, "_but you know as well as I that it isn't the full reason you fainted, is it child?" _ He shook his head reluctantly.

"_It is not."_ He admitted quietly, _"But the reason is not as simple to explain. Much of it is not known outside the Hunter corps. It would be likely that I would be forbidden to tell you."_ He felt his father's emotions and aura surround him, demanding answers he did not want to give. A hand grabbed his chin and tilted it up so frightened emeralds met concerned rubies.

"_You are frightened_" the man commented needlessly, brushing a thumb over his cheek, "_What scares you so, my darling child?"_ He did not look away from his father's concerned gaze; he could not find the energy to.

"_A long lost tale passed through generation upon generation of Hunters, which will finally come to fruition, but at a price too high to pay."_ The teen whispered, still frightened by what he had heard. "_Wards as old as creation, ones that keep the daemons of the realm below out of the Human Realm, are finally fading into oblivion. Wards that haven't been stabilized since the time of Merlin and Morgan. They seek a power source that will restore the wards at full power, permanently._"

"_They intend on using you as the power source."_ His father growled. He only nodded in response. "_Who gave you this information?_" the man asked him.

"_My partner at the Corps. She was kidnapped in New York City, just yesterday. I was supposed to be scouting there yesterday with her, so I can only assume they were looking for me._"

"_Do you see now, why I refuse to have you in the Hunter corps?_" the man growled, looking furious and every inch the Dark Lord he was. "_You see the sacrifices you will make to save the world. I care not for the world, but you will not leave this room if I have anything to say about it._" Which he did. The man did own the manor they were in, and had a tracker on his wrist. It would be nearly impossible to slip past his father this time, and now, he wasn't sure if he wanted to.

His eyes unwillingly sought out Marcus. The man was watching him curiously, and with slight concern. All the emotions vanished from the man's face when the man saw him watching. His father caught sight of the dark-eyed male in the corner and sighed.

"Barty and I will continue this meeting downstairs. _You will get some sleep, or I will force-feed you a dreamless sleep potion_." He added in Parseltongue, before leading 'Barty' out of his room. Sighing, he laid back on his pillow.

Sleep sounded good right about now.

_**Shadow**_

He had seen his older brother watching them, a smile on his face. It wasn't a wicked smirk, or an evil grin; it was a smile that told him that his brother was happy for him. He hadn't seen that smile in years.

Their mother and father separated shortly after they were born. They were fraternal twins, so they didn't have the problem of deciding who was who. He had brown hair and pale blue eyes to his father's chocolate brown hair and sapphire blue eyes. His brother had dirty blond hair and doe brown eyes to his mother's white-blond hair and caramel colored eyes. It had been easy to decide who would go with whom.

His name was Declan McKnight.

His twin's name was Jacques Martin.

And he hadn't seen his twin since he had joined the Hunters all those years ago. If there was one thing in his life he could regret, it was that.

He'd do anything for his older brother back.

_**Shadow**_

Molten silver eyes flickered open in the last rays of dawn, and she sighed in relief. He was waking at last. She watched her blond companion rouse himself from the land of Morpheus. His silver eyes blinked when the saw her observing. He raised an eyebrow in question, all traces of sleep gone from his face and figure. Recognizing the question, she began to talk rapidly in a language that few in the Hunter corps had perfected.

They didn't have much time.

_**Shadow**_

Grey eyes watched the figure on the bed, occasionally looking around to make sure he isn't caught. He smirked at the sleeping teen, younger than him, over ten minutes younger than him. He snorted quietly, knowing anything louder would wake the exhausted teen. He felt slightly bad for what he was doing. If his mother had taught him anything, it was that family always came first; not that she acted like it, of course. She treated her youngest like gum on the bottom of her shoe.

He turned his attention to the window, noting the sun's progress in the cerulean sky. He didn't have much time before his father came to check on his heir.

Oh, he had always known that his green-eyed brother was the heir. He may not be even close to the power his younger brother held, but years of observing his brother from a distance, had always ensured he knew what the teen was doing. He had known the ruling that his brother was a Squib had been fake. The man downstairs had been the reason for the decision. He hadn't always known his brother was a Hunter. That news came later, when _they_ recruited him. If his father hadn't placed a power limiting cuff on the younger teen, there was no way he would've been able to complete his mission:

Kidnapping his younger brother.

He walked up to the teen silently, brushing a stray curl from his brother's forehead. Despite it all, he still cared for his brother, he felt responsible. He questioned whether what he was doing was right, but knew it would end better this way. His older brother though…Damien wouldn't think twice to kidnapping the green-eyed teen.

He noted his brother was stirring, and placed a hand over his mouth. The green eyes snapped open, and watched him in shock and confusion. He smiled at his younger brother.

"Sorry Harry," he whispered, "they want you back now." The verdant eyes only had time to widen in horror and slight betrayal before a single hit sent him into blissful oblivion.

Leaving a saddened grey-eyed teen to ponder his younger brother's fate.

_**Completed on: Saturday, July 02, 2011 at 11:39am**_

_**3,362 words**_

_**Hi guys, I hope you're not mad at me for the long wait for this chapter. I had hoped to get it up last night, but I ended up writing till about 1:37am, and I fell asleep. I woke up about half an hour ago. Hopefully you guys will enjoy this. I'll try to get another chapter up as soon as possible.**_

_**Love, Em =D **_


	18. Slytherins, Through and Through

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi guys, this is me again. I'm starting this today (July 5, 2011) but my Internet is acting funny (and not in a funny way, I threw the router all the way across the living room, I was soooo mad at it), so I might not post it directly when I finish it. Anyways, hopefully we will see Casper this time, but no promises.**

**IMPORTANT: I'VE CHANGED SOMETHING! Casper isn't going to be the grey-eyed guy from all those chapters ago (I think it was three chapters…), he's going to be someone more important! But don't worry; I'll still use the poll results, just mixing it up a bit!**

**NOW ONTO THE STORY!**

**WARNING: Some heavy snogging, not sure what else just yet… **

**DISCLAIMER: one, two, three, four, breathe; one, two, three, four, breathe…**

**Chapter 18: Slytherins, Through and Through**

_"Sorry Harry," he whispered, "they want you back now." The verdant eyes only had time to widen in horror and slight betrayal before a single hit sent him into blissful oblivion._

_ Leaving a saddened grey-eyed teen to ponder his younger brother's fate._

He bolted upright, verdant eyes shooting open instantly, narrowing and taking in their new surroundings. Panicked thoughts circled his mind as the jade orbs darted around his new prison. Silver walls, a door that only appeared to the person on the outside of the cell, titanium shackles that kept his wrists captive above his head and his ankles in front of him; he knew exactly where he was.

"Awake, are we?" the voice startled him out of his observations; it seemed to come from everywhere, and nowhere at the same time. His viridian eyes searched out the source; tiny, almost nonexistent speakers situated in every corner of the room. The disembodied voice chuckled at his observance. And suddenly, the room was plunged into darkness.

When the room was relit, there was a tall, imposing, and intimidating figure standing in front of him, draped in an onyx cloak that seemed to suck the light from the already dimly lit cell. The hood was pulled up over the figure's head. A few strands of white-blond hair fell in front of the figure's hooded face. The only part of the hooded figure's face that was visible was the silvery-grey eyes that watched him triumphantly, maliciously, and with the tiniest hint of remorse. The figure approached him until it was standing directly in front of him.

When the figure reached him, it kneeled down in front of him, raising a hand to brush a stray curl from his forehead; it was something akin to what his brother had done only hours before, only this action lacked the true remorse and love he had felt in his brother's. The hand was wrapped in a fingerless, leather glove, dark as night. The long fingers grasped his chin gently, and tilted it upwards so their eyes met dead on.

Jaded jade green eyes met triumphant titanium silver ones.

They finally had him back. A thought ran through his mind, and a glint of determination entered his verdant eyes, prompting his captor to raise an eyebrow in question. They had him, yes, but that didn't mean he was going to make it easy for them to get what they wanted. His eyes glowed with the challenge he was presented with. They wanted his magic, they would get it.

Just not in the way they expected it.

_**Shadow**_

Molten silver eyes watched the chocolate-eyed huntress in the cell opposite, tracing her body with an obsessive air. Shadow had been the one who found him in Knocturn Alley, just before some hag was about to kidnap him. Shadow dragged him to Hunter headquarters, and the first person he met there was her. The moment he had met her, he knew she was the one. Despite the fact that he was only ten years old, the fact was obvious to him, and to Shadow, who had seen it instantly and snorted something like '_Only her._'

He had fallen head-over-heels in love with Huntress Morrigan Skylar at first sight.

He watched as Morrigan turned questioning eyes onto him; she had, no doubt, already felt his eyes on her. He inclined his head in acknowledgement of her question, but continued to watch her with a smirk now present on his face, without any inclination to answer it. His smirk grew as she huffed and turned away, a faint blush dusting her cheeks. She was as attracted to him as he was to her.

The only thing was that she was better at denying it.

He stiffened as he felt an approaching aura, and gestured towards her sharply, frantically. She caught his gestures from the corner of her eyes, brown orbs widening in surprise, before she schooled her face into an impassive mask all Hunters cultivated. She reclined against the cold cell wall, gesturing for him to do the same. He complied.

Now they faced each other from the back of their own cells, waiting for the person walking down the corridor. He noted that the aura belonged to a guard, and his eyes informed his companion of that. In twin movements, they appeared to relax their stances while watching the hall that separated them with impassive stares.

It was time to put their plan into action.

_**Shadow**_

He had wiped all traces of himself from the room. He had done so twice, knowing it never hurt to be extra cautious, especially in the situation he was in. He ran faster to the edge of the wards, knowing that if he wasn't within them, he could not be blamed for what he did. If he made it to the headquarters he would be in the safe zone.

Of course, once his father discovered that his green-eyed brother was missing, he doubted there would be a safe zone in the world.

With that thought in mind, he ran even faster.

_**Shadow**_

She sat on her bed, hands clenched around a photo frame so hard that her knuckles were white. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her mother peek into her bedroom, watching her with concern before walking down the hall. It didn't matter; it was part of their daily routine now: wake up, eat, watch photo, eat, watch photo, eat, watch photo, sleep. And all the while, her parents would come to check up on her, an air of concern flowing around them.

She'd been in this state for three days now. One day was slightly normal; two days was concerning.

Three days was terrifying. Her parents had no idea how to fix this; they didn't even know what was causing it. They only could hope she got better soon.

_**Shadow**_

His magic caressed his skin gently, creating the illusion that he was sleeping. Eyes the color of the _Avada Kedavra_ glowed eerily in the darkness of his cell. He could easily see the high ceiling and glowing violet runes engraved on the walls of his prison, they kept him in while allowing his captor to come and go as he pleased.

He felt his magic spike at the thought of his captor, and forcibly calmed himself before they could discover his illusion. Annoyance flashed in verdant eyes; his challenge was proving to be very hard. It was of the utmost importance that they believed him to be asleep. While he was 'asleep' they would come in and observe him, talk of what they would do, study the flow of his magic and guess how to increase it. But they made sure he could never hear them; they made sure he was always clueless about what was going to happen to him.

Keep him clueless, keep him confused, unresisting, and their experiments would become so much easier. He couldn't resist, after all, if he doesn't know what he's resisting too.

At least, that's what they thought. He smirked.

He didn't know how long he waited before he sensed the door opening almost silently. His viridian eyes lazily trailed the walls until he came across the door. He suppressed the smirk that threatened to cross his features; he knew where the door was, and that made things a lot easier than people would've expected. It was in the corner between the wall to his left, and the one facing him. He let his eyelids droop slightly; watching as a group no larger than five approached his supposedly sleeping figure. They were all wearing different colored cloaks: blue, black, silver, red, and green, all had hoods covering their faces. The figure in green practically ran to him; the figure in silver snorted.

"Gabriel, control yourself." The man in silver ordered coldly, "The boy isn't going anywhere. We haven't harmed him." He relaxed to give off the illusion of sleep; no one would believe he was asleep if he was so damn tense. But he had a reason.

When the man cloaked in silver had called out the green cloaked figure's name, the green hood had fallen back and revealed a very familiar face. He had forced himself to not drop the illusion that kept the five unaware of his state of consciousness when he saw the concerned face of his grey-eyed older brother.

"Just because he hasn't bruises or injuries does not mean he hasn't been harmed." The grey-eyed teen countered just as coldly, "Mental harm can be just as lasting, idiot. You know this very well." He suppressed the smile he could feel coming to the surface; even if it wouldn't be seen through the illusion, if he didn't suppress his emotions, his magic would spike and alert his-ahem- companions to his state of awareness.

"We have not harmed the teen in any way Gabriel." The figure in blue snapped, seemingly at the end of his non-existent patience (by their voices, he could tell they were all male). "Step away from him." Gabriel turned and stuck his tongue out at the blue clad figure, making him want to laugh.

"He's my brother." The grey-eyed teen growled. "Try and make me."

No one dared. Gabriel smirked. The red clad figure snorted. Through hooded eyes he watched Gabriel approach him until he was kneeling besides his chained figure. His brother reached out and brushed a stray curl from his forehead, _why is there always a stray curl on my forehead, I feel like Dad _(James)_ somehow passed on his messy hair to me._ The other cloaked figures, minus the black cloaked one, had begun discussing different methods of magic transfers (several of which had him wincing), and which ones to use that wouldn't interfere with the original magic around Hel's Gate. All the while, Gabriel watched him. Then he smirked.

"Very Slytherin little brother." The grey-eyed teen whispered, and he felt his eyes widen. He allowed a small portion of his magic to scan his brother, and the urge to do a face-palm made itself known. Of all the times to forget the one, small, yet invaluable ability his brother had, it had to be now. He knew his brother could see past any glamour in the world, so someone remind him why he had forgotten that small detail. The only disguise that could fool his brother was one only a metamorphmagus could do, and he thanked the Maker that he was one; it helped a lot on undercover missions.

"And, pray tell, what is so _Slytherin_ about sleeping?" the figure in blue sneered, irritated; Gabriel had interrupted their discussion. Gabriel smiled sweetly at the blue clad figure, most likely to irritate him more. It worked; the man huffed in irritation, and then froze with the rest of the room when they heard laughter.

Deep, rich laughter that came from the one figure that hadn't made a single sound. All eyes-even his under the illusion-turned to the black clad figure. He could tell instantly that it was the same figure who had visited him previously, when he had first come here. The same figure who had started it all….

The man moved like water; fluid and graceful as he advanced on his chained form, resembling a predator circling his prey, teasing it. The man knew of Gabriel's ability, and he had most likely known all along that he was awake. He had just been humoring him, seeing how far he was willing to take this. Silvery-grey eyes glinted at him triumphantly from underneath the shadows of the hood; white-blond hair fell in front of one of the expressive eyes, telling him _exactly_ who he was. They smirked at him, taunting him. Freedom so close, yet so far.

"Gabriel, step away from your brother, please." Though the statement had seemed kind, there was no doubt it was an order. His grey-eyed brother shot him a worried look before complying. The man knelt down beside him, where Gabriel had been only seconds ago. Taking his chin in hand, he raised his supposedly sleeping face so they were on eye-level. And suddenly, he heard a voice speak in his mind.

_Asleep, no sh*t._ He snorted mentally, and the chuckle told him the other man had heard

_Language_ he informed the man in his best rendition of Marley, which was actually pretty good.

_Your brother is right, you know. You would make an excellent Slytherin, from all Draco has told me about the four houses at Hogwarts. _He mentally rolled his eyes at the man's comment.

_What do you want from me this time?_ He asked softly, and felt the man's grip on his chin tighten marginally. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gabriel stiffen. He knew instinctively that Gabriel was listening in through their triplet bond, and felt no desire to inform the man invading his mind of this.

_Merely some cooperation Shadow; it will not hurt as much then._ His eyes narrowed behind the illusion, and a thought was pushed towards Gabriel in an effort to warn him of what would come next. The widened grey eyes were enough to tell him he was successful.

_Liar_, the man's silvery eyes widened. He had never, _**ever**_ called the man a liar before. _I know exactly what you're doing; I know exactly how you're going to do it. Painless is the one thing it is not._

_And how, exactly, do you know what we have planned?_ We, it was always _**we**_, never I, or they, it was always _**we**_. He never denied exactly what he did, but he never took full credit for his ideas. This man had been his role model before he had turned to their opponents.

_Your subordinates should be careful when speaking to supposedly innocent Huntresses. He, more than anyone, should've known the first thing she would do with the information, would be to tell me. She is my partner, after all._ He smirked underneath the illusion.

_Angering him is not wise, little bro…_ another voice chimed in weakly, and the silver eyes swerved to meet slightly guilty grey eyes.

"The triplet bond." He spat, noting the flinch that flew across both brothers' faces. "How long have you been eavesdropping on our conversation, Gabriel?" he practically hissed, not caring for the alarmed looks that crossed the other cloaked figures' faces.

"Not long." The teen muttered weakly. "I can always sense when one uses a part of the bond, it was impossible for me not to notice the conversation.

"Wait, he's awake?" the blue clad man asked. Everyone, even he, turned to the man with exasperation. _Talk about slow_, he muttered mentally, grinning when his brother snorted in laughter, and tried to cover it up-unsuccessfully-as a cough.

"Obviously" he muttered, dropping the illusion, smirking when the cloaked figures turned to him in shock, irritation, and amusement. His fun was interrupted when the man in black-_that sounds pretty cool, bro,_ came from Gabriel-bellowed:

"**SKYLAR!**" Everyone in the vicinity jumped at his furious tone, none more so than the red-clad man, who was shaking. The scarlet hood fell back to reveal light auburn hair and startled grey eyes with features he recognized belonging to his partner in the corps. Another man he used to trust and look up to, another one taken by the other side. His betrayal had hurt his partner the most; he was the only family she had.

Draped in scarlet and standing in front of him was Benjamin Skylar.

_**Shadow**_

It was the Weasley look-alike, which made him mentally sneer in disgust while simultaneously jump for joy. This was the guard they were going to take out. They had waited too long to escape, this would be their only opening if they were going to save Shadow. They had both received the telepathic message that Shadow had been kidnapped right under his father's nose. He was in the Experimenter Lab in Southern France, near the sea. That message had come from Shadow himself.

They were both reclined against the cold, metal wall, waiting for the man to walk directly to the center of the hall; that is when he would strike.

As the man reached the center, he gently wove tendrils of compulsion magic around the man, telling him to _turn to the grey-eyed boy, why not watch him for a second, better than the dull grey monotony of the rest of the prison_. He smirked as he watched the compulsion take hold, and then wiped away the smirk to form an impassive mask as the man turned to him. Behind the guard, Morrigan had risen silently, gracefully, and crept to a corner near the bars.

As the man's Dumbledore blue eyes *grimaces* met his silver orbs, his eyes began to glow dimly. The silver in his eyes became more prominent, and swirled hypnotically among the mercuric grey irises. The man was caught in his hypnotic gaze, and he let a lazy smirk cross his face. His eyes glowed with the power of his Veela inheritance, manipulating the thoughts of the poor, unskilled, and weak willed wizard in front of him.

_Get your wand, silly boy_ it teased the blue-eyed man, _Unlock him, silly boy, why should such treasure be locked up_ his magic taunted the guard. Morrigan had moved into a crouch by the bars, whispering something in French that was too soft for him to hear. The bars on her cell began to glow a light blue, nullifying the wards around them. She shot him a triumphant smirk that had his heart racing, and it strengthened the Veela compulsion. A Veela was stronger when his or her mate was nearby.

And inheritance or not, he knew he had found his.

As Morrigan slipped out of her prison, she disillusioned herself, making herself invisible to his sight, but not his sense. He saw her aura, clear as day, encasing her, embracing her, swirling around her in a delicate dance of prosperity. It reached out to taunt him, to tease him, most likely without his Huntress's knowledge.

Encouraged, he strengthened the Veela compulsion he had surrounding the Weasley look-alike. _Open the door, silly boy; he's hurt, silly boy, open the door so he can heal, silly boy_. And finally, the guard unlocked the door and opened the cell with his wand. He walked out, triumphant, and manipulated the compulsion to make the guard give him the wand and sit in the cell. He sealed the cell with a negligent flick of the wand. Turning, he saw the grin on her face and barely saw her move before he felt her arms around his chest, hugging him for all she was worth. Still giddy over his accomplishments in forwarding his training involved with his Veela heritage, he did the first thing he could come up with in response.

He kissed her.

Surprise didn't keep her from reacting. Instinctively, she pressed back against his lips, hands coming to rest on his shoulders, while he did the same, drawing her closer. The kiss was chaste and sweet. They parted and looked into each others' eyes. Mercury-grey swirled with silver met deep, melted chocolate brown. She grinned.

"Well? Are you going to stand there and stare all day, or are you going to kiss me?"

That was all the incentive he needed.

_**Shadow**_

He stared at the bed, almost uncomprehending of the sight that greeted him. The sheets were messed up; there were small traces on the floor that suggested someone had been dragged out the door. On the pillow there was a faint trace of blood, which suggested that the person on the bed had been knocked out with a hit to the head.

The sight had rage building in him, his magic pooling around him. And to add to that, there was no trace of magic in the room. He knew the teen within the room couldn't have done anything; the cuff would've alerted him to anything the teen tried. He had raced up here when the tracker had alerted him rather frantically that it had been nullified somewhere in France. He had frozen when he realized that his son had been somewhere in France before someone had nullified his tracker. That was when he spotted everything.

His son had been kidnapped right under his own nose, from his own house, his own rooms.

The whole city of Little Hangleton and even Greater Hangleton froze as each person heard a roar; a roar filled with emotions: anger, rage, fear, hate, and loss.

_**Completed on: Wednesday, July 06, 2011 11:25pm**_

_**This chapter clocks in as my largest with 3,586 words! Thanks guys, your support is amazing! I got 12 reviews in the first two days, and I was so shocked with the amount of people who wanted me to update. Just so you guys know there is a new poll up about Alyssa. **_

_**CHALLENGE: I'm also curious as to who you guys think the silver-eyed man is. I've given you guys enough clues to figure it out, so I want to know what you guys think. The first person to get it right gets virtual cookies!**_

_**Love, Em =D**_


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